


All Fall Down

by Narroch, umbreonnightgale



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Ableism, Antisemitism, Body Horror, Castration, Child Death, Compression Torture, Cruelty, Double Penetration, Exposure, Fascism, Gang Rape, Gunplay, Holocaust, Human Experimentation, Implied/Referenced Bestiality, Imprisonment, Incest, M/M, Manipulation, Medical Torture, Minor Character Death, Minor Original Character(s), Multi, Murder, Nazis, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Touching, Non-Consensual Violence, References to Hitler, Rimming, Sensory Deprivation, Sexual Abuse, Sounding, Suicidal Thoughts, Watersports
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:14:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 122,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26646601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Narroch/pseuds/Narroch, https://archiveofourown.org/users/umbreonnightgale/pseuds/umbreonnightgale
Summary: A story of a femme lesbian, a Jewish pianist, a wise-cracking albino, and a brother-loving Nazi.
Relationships: Austria/Prussia (Hetalia), Germany/North Italy (Hetalia), Germany/Prussia (Hetalia), Hungary/Prussia (Hetalia), Lithuania/Poland (Hetalia), Lithuania/Russia (Hetalia), Prussia/Rome/Germania, Prussia/Russia (Hetalia), Russia/Prussia/Lithuania/Poland/Latvia
Comments: 47
Kudos: 55





	1. Chapter 1

The year was 1938, the light glistened in the popular coffeehouse stationed on a corner street within the great city of Berlin, people filtering in and out as they abided by their daily chores. A group of friends was huddled at a round table, a striking group of individuals.

Despite being the younger one, Ludwig was always self-conscious of his size. He dwarfed his older brother, having grown taller and broader than him in an unceasing rush from puberty to where he now stood, towering a full head over his older brother. Ludwig didn’t like to stand out, didn’t like being noticed, and always hunched his shoulders, drooped his neck, and rounded his back to try and make himself seem smaller to fit in. It had started as a conscious choice, a decision to be diminished, but now it was a forced habit.

Even now he perched awkwardly on his cafe stool at the table, already taken in by the lively conversation between his brother and his friends.

Across from him was the lovely Elizaveta, top of her class when she’d graduated, chestnut hair falling around her shoulders in wavy curls, leaning over to debate the entire table, eyes flashing with intelligence and a fierce quickness that made Ludwig feel self-conscious like she could see through him. She was smart, friendly yet edgy, and not afraid to speak directly like a man yet still maintain that devastating feminine poise. She was an entire novel of a person.

Next to her, kept off-balance by her excited grasping and articulations, was a rather harried-looking young man, well-kept but tired from the weight of his ambition. Roderich, dark brown hair slicked back and tied there by a loose band, sat with his hands steepled in front of him on the table, absorbed in concentration, nodding along with every one of Elizaveta’s sentences, speaking up whenever anyone had a dispute. He was mostly analytical, had many interesting observations to add to the conversation, but Ludwig knew he wasn’t rational when it came to Elizaveta. She could claim any outlandish notion, and he would back her without hesitation. He was a nice enough fellow, as long as you knew when to take him seriously and when to ignore him.

Wedged close next to him, so much so their hips were touching, was his brother, Gilbert. By far the most delinquent in their group, he was just happy to have graduated and hadn’t been intimidated by Elizaveta or Roderich’s high scores when they’d first met and become friends. It wasn’t important to him, the way he knew certain people flocked around him, Ludwig had learned long ago how naturally captivating his brother was, how charismatic he could be if people gave him a chance. The chalky pale skin and pink-red eyes put off so many, Gilbert was always grateful for any sort of attention and fiercely loyal to those who accepted him.

“Ugh, This Adolf Hitler guy is fucking pissing me off, he’s so damn biased and full of himself. Making Germany great again, phht. We're already great! The Treaty doesn’t change who we are, we don’t need his help,” Gilbert huffed, voice aloof and loud.

“Even though there were thousands upon thousands of homeless people living on the streets?” Ludwig asked. “Plus the economy is completely wrecked. We literally can’t afford anything as a country. 50 billion gold marks…”

“It’s the people's job to help those who are meek and poor. We’re the ones who let this happen and we have to fix it,” Elizaveta cut in.

“Yeah, not some deranged man who proclaims to be the saint of the fallen Nation,” Gilbert said, as he rolled his red hues, sitting back heavily on his chair with so much force the wooden frame was knocked off its feet, causing the chair to lose its balance and slam into the floor. The noise was loud as bystanders turned their heads to the scene. The small coffee shop fell silent and for a moment as Gilbert was dazed, seeing stars - shit, fuck, that was embarrassing - his legs sprawled in the air, the adrenaline coursing through his veins as he scrambled to get up on his feet, adjusting his clothes.

“I’m okay! I’m okay,” The albino announced, his eyes drawn to the fair-haired Hungarian that had stolen his heart since childhood.

Elizaveta was the first to laugh at Gilbert’s misfortune and break the awkward silence that had frozen the shop, the light in her eyes twinkling as her chest bounced. Gilbert couldn’t be angry at Elizaveta for laughing, it was a relief more than anything as bystanders rolled their eyes to turn their heads back onto their newspaper or regain their conversations, much to his relief.

Gilbert couldn’t help but be drawn to the girl's large bosom, it looked incredibly soft, hidden in her dress... What did her pussy taste like? The albino bit his lip, quickly drawn out of his fantasy by Roderich’s annoying cough.

“Anyway, as I was about to say before Gilbert graced us all with his balancing act - I for one am not going to be wearing one of those infernal Jewish stars. I don’t care what laws they pass, it’s a clear violation. A psychological tactic to directly mark us as different, in other words inferior,” Roderich declared.

“I’m shocked it even went through at all…” Elizaveta said.

“I’m not,” Ludwig responded.

“Really?”

“Well, it’s meant to be an identifying band, that’s all. Like flashing your ID, just simpler.”

Roderich glared at Ludwig from across the opposite corner of the table.

“Sounds like you’re defending it, Ludwig…”

“No, I’m just playing devil’s advocate. I think a lot of the activist types will take one idea and blow it out of proportion. That’s all,” Ludwig offered with a dismissive shrug.

“It’s not a law that needs an advocate. Period.” Roderich put his fist down on the table with the last word, marking an end to the conversation.

“So, shall we meet up for drinks tomorrow night then?” Elizaveta said cheerily, happy to change the subject. They decided on a meeting place and time and everyone stood to leave.

Ludwig paid for both himself and his brother after Gilbert claimed to have forgotten his wallet. Ludwig could see the outline of it in the back of his slacks but he didn’t push it. Despite being younger he’d always been the more responsible one, the quiet, diligent one to Gil’s brash outgoing demeanor. His eyes lingered a moment on his brother’s backside, appreciating the full curve of it before giving himself a shake and nudging Gilbert in the back.

“Come on, let’s get going before it’s too dark.”

Gilbert, who had been saying goodbye to Elizaveta yet again, craned his head back to smile at him.

“Don’t worry little brother, I know the way home.”

He turned and followed Ludwig outside, the cold Berlin air hitting them like needles through the seams of their clothes. Even bundled up in coat, hat, scarf, and gloves, Ludwig still felt a shiver run through him. Gilbert walked beside him, his build so much more slender compared to his, he must have been even colder.

Twilight was quickly being replaced by night, the streets slick and dark and quiet. Once they were off the main road Ludwig dared to raise one arm and sling it over Gil’s shoulders, pulling him in close as they walked hip to hip, rib to rib, Gilbert slipped an arm around his waist to return the gesture.

It was these precious moments of casual, brotherly intimacy that Ludwig craved. He knew he would replay their walk home tonight, the feeling of his brother’s body against his. Even though all the layers separating them he could still feel his warmth, knew how easily it made his blood sing hot.

He didn’t want to think about what it meant to feel that way about his brother, didn’t want to acknowledge anything that could ruin this for him, make Gilbert pull back. So he pushed the feeling down, would think about it later when he was alone, and instead focused on the present, the rare moment when his brother was there in his arms, as contrived as it might have been.

“So, do you think the Weimar Republic can do better than what Hitler’s promising? You and Eliza can speak of justice all you want, but at the end of the day, we still need a strong leader to unite us. Someone who can restore our honor,” Ludwig started up the conversation, knowing they were at an impasse, but still wanting to hear his brother speak regardless.

“Whatever, Lud. You can’t make me like him! No matter what you’ll try and say,” The albino replied, rolling his eyes. How could Ludwig believe such an opinionated and biased man?

They turned a corner, only a couple blocks from their home when Ludwig saw a bedraggled old man crouched in the doorway of an abandoned home, using the threshold as a shelter from the wind. He was dirty, unshaven, his head bare and balding, coughing harshly into a stained rag.

“See that? Your Weimar Republic thinks it’s fine for people like this to take up resources, pollute our cities. Hitler wouldn’t allow it. Men like that would be --” Ludwig spouted off, surprised when Gilbert jerked them both to a stop and spoke up.

"Would be what? He’s still a human. We don't need the Republic OR Hitler to do the right thing."

Ludwig felt Gilbert detach himself, already mourning the loss of contact, and watched with growing shock and disapproval as he walked over to the very man they’d been discussing. Ludwig felt the anger grow inside as his brother unwound his scarf and handed it to the man. Even going so far as to wind it around his head, mottled age spots covered by hand-knitted wool, still warm from Gil’s body.

Ludwig had knitted that scarf for him, had spent days on it as a present last winter. The deep burgundy had complimented his eyes so well, made his silver hair shine against it. He wouldn’t be able to get the same skein of wool and felt disproportionately angry at his brother for so easily giving it away.

“Why did you do that?” Ludwig started in on him as soon as he walked back. “There isn’t enough to go around as is, that’s entirely the problem I’m talking about! You can’t just give away everything.”

“Why? Because they need it more than I do, clearly,” Gilbert stated as a matter of factly. Gilbert turned and left the conversation at that he wanted to get in the final word, whatever Ludwig’s obscure opinions had to say on the matter. The rest of the walk home was drawn in intense silence.

Later that night, after they had both said good night, Ludwig lay awake in his bed. The image of Gilbert’s scarf around the man’s head, the flashing red eyes of his brother as he defied all logic, continued to taunt him. Why was he so adamant about selling himself short? He had to find a way to convince Gilbert, he decided as he tossed and turned and struggled to fall asleep. Tomorrow he would go to the source directly, enough of the coffeeshop banter and rhetoric. He’d find out the truth about the Nazi party himself and make Gilbert understand.

\---

It was very late, he had no sense of time but Ludwig had only fallen asleep in fits and starts, never fully settling. Hours later he finally sat up and untwisted himself from the sheets. He got out of bed and remade the sheets and blanket military tight, even in the dark. He shuffled out of his room down the hall toward the study, thinking maybe a history book could bore him enough to -

He passed Gilbert’s room on his way and noticed it was slightly ajar. Heard a tiny moan. Felt his nerves freeze and stake him in place.

Holding his breath, Ludwig leaned forward and peeked through the cracked door, eyes catching the dim orange light of a bedside oil lamp, illuminating the taboo scene. Gilbert’s back was rounded over, his right hand held a trembling photo of Elizaveta beneath the light which he was staring intensely at, his left hand which was blocked from view by his body jerked restlessly up and down and Ludwig knew exactly what he was doing.

“Oh, Eliza… your cunt, so weet~” Gilbert moaned, his back facing the door as he furiously pumped his cock, his toes curling as he released a strangled moan, hips thrust into the air as his sperm squirted in a thick line, landing on his sheets as he panted in his moistened pillow.  
Ludwig stood stock still, his heart racing, his pants swelling, and after a moment he slowly, quietly tiptoed his way to the bathroom, bypassing the study altogether. Once inside he flicked on the lights and the harsh artificial way it hit and shocked his eyes confirmed that yes, that had just happened and he wasn’t dreaming.

Ludwig didn’t know what to do with himself, seeing his brother masturbating left him so keyed up, so confused… He quickly turned on the shower, first to hot, then after a moment, he lowered it back down to cold. A boner like that didn’t mean anything… It was a sympathy boner… A coincidence… Anyone would get hard seeing someone else masturbate… Maybe it was the picture that did it?

But he knew that wasn’t true. It was the arch of Gil’s body, the ache in his cry as he came, the absolute erotic mystery of his hidden cock. Ludwig thought of Elizaveta’s picture, how Gilbert was still pining for her despite her constantly hanging off Roderich and felt a little spike of unreasonable anger. Gilbert was wasting his time, what was the attraction anyway?

He could turn that question on himself honestly, getting hard from seeing his older brother’s self-loving.

Ludwig stripped down and was careful not to touch himself. His dick was still hard, and it was still Gilbert’s fault. He took a fortifying breath and quickly stepped into the cold shower. Immediately his breath was stolen, shivers began shuddering through his limbs, and everything constricted in shock as the chill did the trick. He withstood the cold for a full minute to make sure the embers of passion were completely snuffed before turning it off and stepping out. Ludwig patted himself dry with a thick brown towel, wrapping it loosely around his hips.

He left his pajamas where they were on the bathroom floor. The thought of putting them on felt stifling now. Ludwig walked slowly back down the hall, his torso still exposed and dripping with water.

When he came closer to Gilbert’s door he saw that he was awake and looking at him through the opening. Ludwig didn’t know what he must look like, naked but for a towel at 3 am, suspiciously lurking around when he’d just gotten off, but neither one said anything.

Gilbert silently closed the door as he went past.

\---

Ludwig slept in the next morning, rather unlike him, but his dreams after his impromptu late-night shower were vivid and surreal. The clearest one he remembered had him sitting in Gilbert’s room, the same spot his brother was the night before, same position, doing the same thing supposedly - but instead of a picture of Elizaveta to gaze covetously upon, Ludwig reached into the interior pocket of his jacket and pulled out a tiny Gilbert that could fit in the palm of his hand. The miniature Gilbert stood in his hand and smiled up at him, started to sway, and then lifted his arms, dancing and spinning to a rhythm only he could hear.

Ludwig woke up hard again after that.

He trudged downstairs and saw the remains of breakfast upon the table, a place setting for him as well. Gilbert was long gone. Ludwig poured himself a cup of coffee, snagged a couple of pieces of toast from the caddy, and smeared them with marmalade, sitting down to eat before he noticed the note by Gilbert’s seat. Ludwig picked it up and read.

“Headed downtown to see Old Fritz, be back later - Gilbert”

Ludwig frowned, why his brother insisted on hanging around that old geezer he would never understand. Still, that meant he had the house to himself on a Saturday. A rare occurrence. Usually, they were either doing something together or running errands on the weekend. He’d planned to head to the city this morning to get more information about the Nazi party but a niggling impulse kept him from moving forward at his usual diligent pace.

He thought back to the strange night before, seeing Gilbert come undone like that, over a photo of their unavailable friend, it still seemed unreal. What was so great about Elizaveta anyway? Ludwig respected her, considered her a friend, but had no appreciation for her as a woman. He knew she often got men’s attention, both Gilbert and Roderich tripped over themselves to serve her at times it seemed. But that attraction had always eluded Ludwig. What was the big deal anyway?

Ludwig leaned back in his chair, took a thoughtful sip of his coffee as he looked up towards the ceiling. He wondered if Gilbert left Elizaveta’s photo in his room or took it with him. And after several minutes of contemplation, what started as an idle thought turned into curiosity, and then desire. He drained his coffee and stood up, checking the time before brushing himself down and heading upstairs. Gilbert wouldn’t mind, they popped into each other’s rooms all the time. Just usually, it was when the occupant was home.

Ludwig brushed that thought away, already determined to find something in there. He opened the door slowly, glancing inside just to be sure Gilbert had left. Space was well organized, considering Gilbert's chaotic personality. The room was basic, a bed, a small table with a lamp perched on top, some drawers, and a closet.

He moved across the room and stopped at the side table, opening it, making note of the contents and their position, and then quickly rifling through for the photo - or something. Ludwig wasn’t completely sure what he was looking for, just that there had to be some sort of explanation for that magnetism he felt toward his brother. He couldn’t find the photo, figured Gilbert did have it with him at all times and stood up to check the dresser drawer.

What he saw when he pulled it open made him take a step back. There were… women’s things in there - perfume, makeup, satin gloves… Ludwig felt himself blushing as his eyes settled on the lingerie. There were a few, five in total, all in different colors. They were thin and had intricate patterns, each one different from the other - but there was one common theme between them - an additional opening on the front of the panties.

His hand trembled ever so slightly as he reached forward and plucked a garment up. He opened it up, admired its form, then drew it to his nose for a deep inhale. The scent of male musk, stale dried sweat from intimate parts, wafted back to him. It had to have been Gilbert who wore these last…

The thought of that image, Gilbert posed in nothing but this slinky, satiny garment, barely able to cover his dick, sent Ludwig stumbling backward landing on the bed, his cock throbbing awake so fast it shocked him. Settling onto Gilbert’s bed may have been a mistake, however, because his scent was everywhere. Ludwig moaned aloud, rubbed and carded the underwear between his fingers in one hand, and drew down the zip of his pants with the other. His dick emerged already leaking pre, the stiff warp of it bending up towards his belly.

Ludwig’s mind was racing, but it was just through a tight loop over and over consisting of one subject. Just thoughts of Gil, his mysterious eyes close to his, his white body, his familiar touch, his rough voice and laugh, the way he looked last night…

That last image made Ludwig wrap his hand around his cock, still gripping the lingerie there. Slowly he began to pump himself, eyes closed, focusing on the sensation, the thought of Gilbert’s dick filling these very panties, rubbing himself against him, pushing him down into this very bed and… and…

Ludwig panted desperately and abruptly rolled over, rubbing his face against the pillows, lingerie-lined hand still fisting rapidly over his length, now his hips also pressing and rocking into the bed where Gil had been laying not even over an hour ago, this very spot where he pleasured himself, where he wore women’s things, where he watched Ludwig in the hallway at night and didn’t say… Didn’t say any-

Ludwig bit the pillow with a strangled shout as he spurted forth a massive load, his body jerking and spasming as he spent himself into Gilbert’s panties, his sheets, his pants; there was plenty to go around.

After the final aftershocks, Ludwig rolled onto his back, heaved a huge sigh, and examined the mess he’d made. The lingerie was unsalvageable, completely coated in spunk - it would need to be hand-washed. The bed he could make the excuse of getting laundry done earlier, throw his sheets in as well to avoid suspicion.

“Hmph... “ Ludwig chuckled ruefully to himself. Suspicious indeed.

He heaved himself up and began the task of gathering all the linens from throughout the house to start the laundering process. He kept the satin underwear balled up in his pocket, taking it out now and again to smell it and the drying semen within. Ludwig believed that Gilbert had more than enough lingerie, surely he wouldn’t miss one pair…

\----

Gilbert sighed heavily through his nose as he felt his chest tightening up, an anxious feeling that often overtook him whenever he thought of the beautiful Hungarian girl Elizaveta, sweet, mothering Elizaveta. Gilbert hung his head in shame as he entered an old vintage shop, his pride hurt once more as he couldn’t gather the courage to confess his love. What kind of a man was he?

Gilbert sighed angrily, the ringing bell abruptly stopping his thoughts as he made eye contact with an aging old friend, his eyes a muted grey-blue that barely glanced up at him. He was busy in the middle of fixing a watch for commission.

“Hey, Fritz! Just thought I’d visit you since it’s been a while. Figured you would have missed the awesome me,” Gilbert chuckled confidently as he strode into the empty shop. Nothing ever really changed there. It was as if the shop itself was a commission still waiting for its turn to be fixed, completely stopped in time.

“Gilbert, Willkommen. What do I owe the pleasure of you sparing your time here, with me?” The old man hummed, his voice was gentle as he squinted his eyes and fiddled with tiny screws, nuts, and bolts.

“I urh-- needed some of your wise advice, Fritz...” Gilbert said, approaching the cabinet display Fritz was leaning over on. Fritz briefly stopped with his wrinkly old hands as he looked up to meet red hues, nodding for Gilbert to continue as he gestured towards an old stool for him to sit on, which was often used for clients.

“Go on, Gilbert. I’ll help any way I can.”

“Right, okay --” Gilbert began, taking in a deep sigh as he sat down on the stool. Almost instantaneously he couldn’t seem to stay still as his leg swung back and forth. “You see, I have -- these feelings, for a girl I know, and we’ve been best friends since, like forever. I’m too scared to ask her out, not because she’ll say no -- well, maybe a bit of that -- but what if I ruin our friendship? I don’t have a lot of friends, Fritz. I care about her a lot,” Gilbert concluded.

“Well… that’s rather an easy question for me to offer advice for, Gilbert. You should tell her how you feel and not fear rejection. Communication is the key to relationships and friendships. There is never a wrong moment,” The old man advised as he rubbed at his saggy eyes.

Gilbert looked up, about to reply before noticing an armband stitched onto Fritz’s shoulder, his eyes widening, pupils constricting like pinpricks as the albino jumped up in alarm, pointing at the offending star.

“Why the hell are you wearing that?!”

Fritz blinked slowly. Adjusting his glasses as he pulled the armband down on his arm so it could be seen more clearly, the Jewish star.

“It’s the law, Gilbert,” Fritz replied mistily.

“Who gives a damn fuck about law--! They have no right to do this to you, Fritz! Just because of your religion you're being singled out and shamed for your beliefs! That’s not okay!” Gilbert shouted, not giving a damn if there were curious glances drawn to the window shop as Gilbert raised his voice.

“Take it off!”

Fritz sighed, his shoulders sagging with age.

“I can’t do that, Gilbert. If they find out I'm turning my head against the law they could take my shop. I can’t let that happen.”

Gilbert’s eyes burned with rage as he clenched his fists tight, his nails embedding little crescent moons in the palms of his hands, knuckles turning white. Gilbert knew how important the shop was to the old man and he couldn’t bring himself to say anything, sighing angrily as he turned sharply on his heels to leave the shop, stomping and marching his way over to the door before leaving, slamming the door violently.

\----

Ludwig finished up the laundry, remade all the beds, and after a late solo lunch Gilbert still hadn’t shown back up. He decided to head into the city, still determined to find out more about the Nazi party directly. At the very least he hoped a brisk walk would clear his head.

He made his way to the city center, the bustle of daily activity and business crowded the streets, political flyers were everywhere - so many more of them these days - and it didn’t take long before Ludwig found a plaza with a stage and speaker. There was already a fairly large crowd gathered, the stage lined with crisp grey uniforms. They were sharp, looked tailored, and Ludwig couldn’t help but admire the clean precise lines. In front of the line of soldiers, a podium was center stage, an energetic and fiery speaker blasting away behind it. He continuously threw his arms around in wild gesticulation, his passion evident as spit flew from his mouth and a vein popped in his temple.

“We represent the unification of all Germans, both at home and abroad! We are the party of power, we will not sit idly by as Germans face aggression outside of Germany; our citizens are slaughtered across the border in Poland and we will not allow it to continue. We are the ones who will bring the Master race together in a glorious victory -”

The diatribe continued as Ludwig slipped into the crowd, self-conscious of his height and breadth, he stayed toward the back with his shoulders stooped. All around him people were looking forward, rapt, nodding along and clapping between every other sentence. Many of them wore swastikas and other Nazi colors.

“We will strengthen our country from within - we are not afraid to allow the destruction of life unworthy of living. The drooling retards, the pathetic homeless, the weak dredges of society that produce hereditarily diseased offspring - they will be cut down to make us stronger, separate the wheat from the chaff -”

Ludwig knew what his friends would think if they saw him lingering here. Anytime they encountered Nazi propaganda as they called it, they hung back scowling and debating and contradicting every point that was made. They never stayed long, found their fill of political disgust quickly, and always moved forward. For the first time, he was allowed to stand still and soak it in. Listen and feel the emotions of what was being said.

“The Treaty of Versaille was a direct attack on Germany and its people, the shameful attempt of cowards who would try to disarm us. It will never happen! Not while proud Germans stand! Not while Hitler leads us!”

Ludwig could feel the crowd pulsing, pounding, politicizing, his heartbeat picking up to match. His friends may disagree with him but surely there had to be something here, it wasn’t just lies, there was true power to be had, true progress and peace and prosperity. Some people saw what he saw, more than just a few too.

“Jewish Marxists running rampant through our society with the three vices of democracy, pacifism, and internationalism. Bolshevism is the declaration of war by Jewish-led subhumans against culture itself-”

Ludwig felt his heart jump in his throat. He was talking about Roderich, or, people like Roderich. He liked to pass himself off as an academic who read purely for the esoteric collection of knowledge, but Ludwig knew he’d seen him peruse different communist literature. He’d never questioned it before then, never considered it his business, but the thought of Gilbert spending time with him and being influenced by Roderich sent a fizzle of fear through Ludwig. The word subhuman kept slinking around his head like a shadow.

The speech reached its fever pitch when the crowd all around him began saluting in a steady rhythm - Heil Hitler ringing and echoing off the stone buildings, over and over again. Ludwig without any real conscious thought, felt himself straightening up and raising an arm, opening his throat up to yell louder than he had in years. He got caught up in the chanting, felt himself being filled with a strange kinetic energy. This party was actually doing something about the troubles in the world. And it felt like he was being permitted to do something too.

\----

Later that evening Gilbert returned to the shop, seeing how one by one Fritz’s neighboring stores began to shut down with flyers of the Jewish emblem star enlisted on the window. Much like Roderich’s family business. They’d owned a classical music shop but ended up being forced to give away every fine instrument, even the Austrian’s favorable grand piano. Bolshevism was a government target that meant music and art were considered contraband in Jewish hands.

It burned Gilbert's blood, stepping into the shop again as he saw the old man hunched over a magnifying glass, using the tiniest pair of pliers in existence to tinker with the watch as the glasses slid down his nose. He was completely absorbed in his miniature world of gears and springs. Did Fritz even know what was going on outside?

“I’m not sorry for my outburst before,” Gilbert confessed, approaching the old man with confident steps as he began to unravel something from his wrist.

“I know how much you care about this shop, but bitte, the more you abide by these unlawful rules the more the government is going to let it happen - can’t you see what’s going on around you?” Gilbert insisted, however, the old man remained uncharacteristically quiet, not lifting his head from his work.

“Businesses owned by the Jewish community are being forced to be shut down, people going missing in broad daylight, Fritz!” Gilbert pressured.

“Gilbert -- no matter how hard you try to convince me, I won’t be leaving my shop. I promised her,” Fritz said softly, his voice sounding particularly weathered as he thought of her. Gilbert chewed on his bottom lip, knowing very well who ‘her’ was. She was Fritz’s wife and she’d been missing for several nights now.

“If I’m not here, she won’t know where to look for me, I can’t abandon her.”

Gilbert sighed, a hand covering his eyes as his head hung low -- slowly he put a thick watch on the desk, pushing it towards his direction.

“You need it more than I do.” It was a watch given to Gilbert by Ludwig’s father. “Please, promise me you’ll keep yourself safe.”

There was a tense moment of brief silence. Old Fritz finally raised his head, looking Gilbert steadily in the eyes.

“I… can’t guarantee that, in these unknowing times. But what’s certain is that you’ve been a dear and precious friend to me. I won’t forget it. Goodbye, Gilbert. Keep your brother safe and close to your heart,” Old Fritz said. There was a sense of quiet dignity in acceptance. He wouldn’t be moved, even if that meant the end of him.

Gilbert pursed his lip as he shook his head, wanting to scream to the heavens how this wasn’t fair. The albino remained silent, unable to meet the old man’s ghostly eyes as tears filled his vision, without another word he left the shop, the door swinging open and closed as Gilbert ran away, ran away from a problem he couldn’t fix. Why was everything falling from his hands?

\----

That evening over dinner Ludwig noticed the missing watch. He’d long since memorized the details of Gilbert so the flat spot against his chest where the pocket watch typically rested was a dead give away. Ludwig knew where he’d been that day and stewed with the sour idea that Gilbert had given away their father’s heirloom watch to Old Fritz, yet another Jew stealing and dividing German inheritance. Gilbert was being corrupted, he didn’t even realize it, and Ludwig had to do something before it went any further.

\----

They agreed on the time during winter’s early-dark evening and met outside a pub, full to the brim with people and the stench of smoke and alcohol leaking through the door. The pub was rammed with patrons when the four of them pushed their way inside. They all stood at the bar for a moment getting their drinks and by the time they all had steins brimming with golden ale, a small table in the back had cleared out. They squeezed their way into their seating single file, needing to wedge close together to fit. Ludwig especially stood out as too big for space.

Elbows and knees touching, they all raised their steins and hit them together with a satisfying clack of thick glass.

“Prost!”

Gilbert took an eager swig of his frothing beer, enjoying the cool sensation as he released the glass with a wet pop, leaning forward on his elbows as he scooted close to the Hungarian girl, her lips painted red.

“Woah, Eliza, you did something with your eyes this evening? They’re gorgeous!”

“Nah, it’s just the usual one I put on all the time. I could show you how sometimes if you like it so much,” Elizaveta winked at him, smiling as if sharing a secret joke.

It did not go unnoticed by Ludwig. Wondered if she’d already given him lessons if that lingerie belonged to her in the first place… The beer turned bitter in his mouth. What if the speeches and dire warnings about those dangerous sexual deviants were true?

“Oh, please do, baby!” Gilbert grinned from ear to ear, a faint blush dancing across his cheeks ruled out to be the alcohol. At least, the albino told himself that. “What did you pick there, Eliza? Can I have a try?” Gilbert inquiries.

“I don’t know, can you handle it being outrageously hoppy?” Elizaveta tilted her head.

“It’s not worth it, trust me, Gil,” Roderich put in, sipping serenely from his lager.

“Pfft! Challenge accepted, four-eyes!”

Elizaveta shrugged and wordlessly slid her glass over.

Gilbert snagged the glass as it slid over to him, eagerly putting it to his lips as he drank the beverage. He didn’t even have to taste it before his face scrunching up in disgust, whipping his head around to spit out the bitter and rancid alcohol.

“Ewww- What the fuck, Eliza!? What is that dog shit!? It tastes like I'm drinking a pinecone!" Gilbert shouted, wiping his mouth furiously as he tried to get rid of the bitter and awful taste.

Ludwig was caught directly in the face by the spray, jolting in surprise as the foam ran down his cheek, dripped off his nose and chin.

“Gilbert…” Ludwig growled slowly, raising his hand to wipe as much as he could off.

“Oooh--” Gilbert scratched the back of his head awkwardly, grinning sheepishly at his brother’s glum and annoyed expression. “Shit, I’m sorry, bro!” The apology was half-hearted.

Elizaveta gasped and couldn’t hold back a small giggle but to her effort, she did try. She reached into her pocket and handed Ludwig her handkerchief. Roderich didn’t even bother trying to hold back and instead laughed heartily, actually leaning back and showing his teeth. The beer affected him as well.

Ludwig took the offered handkerchief and wiped himself dry, blotting it out of his shirt as best he could.

Before anyone else could say anything a loud crash shot through the room and the entire pub quieted to craned around to look at the group of men crowded together, standing and shouting, an argument erupting out of nowhere.

“You’re breaking the law being in here without that mark, how dare you-”

“I don’t need to wear that to have a drink in my neighborhood-”

“It’s not your neighborhood, you thief!”

The pub owner started yelling at them to take it outside and several other patrons joined in jeering at the scene. It was hard to tell who was rooting for who, only the whole gaggle of men involved filtered outside in a bumping, shoving chaos, and through the front plate glass window everyone could see the one man who’d not been wearing his mark as he was held and punched several times, dropped and kicked. They circled him, all of them kicking, not stopping.

Roderich was on his feet and about to run outside to intervene when they heard a shrill whistle from the street, and saw a pair of grey uniformed officers rushing over as the group scrambled. They didn’t chase any of the attackers, instead of bent down and grabbed the man by his arms, hauling him up. One of them held him upright as he still swayed on his feet, the other barked a string of questions with the man mumbling his reply. After only a moment they both took hold of him by the arms and started marching him down the street, quickly disappearing from view.

Gilbert's eyes went wide at the extreme violence, grabbing Roderich by the crook of his arm before he made it outside. How the hell was this okay? One man against several?! All because of that motherfucking new law. How could people just sit by and just watch -- how could they allow this? Even if Gilbert joined Roderich, they stood no chance against so many.

“Hey, come on, let's get outta here,” Gilbert insisted, standing up from his stool and ushering the Austrian man outside.

Roderich was rigid in his grasp, straining against him as his eyes flashed dangerously. He was positively furious, and could only allow himself to be pushed out by his friend. The other two rose as well, dropping a few coins on the table and leaving the same way they came in. The warmth of the pub considerably diminished.

They strode into the bracing night air and got a full block away from the pub before anyone spoke.

“What the fuck was that?!” Gilbert shouted, voice edged with panic as he finally let his Austrian friend go. “You could have gotten yourself killed, Roderich!” Gilbert hissed in a whisper-like manner, trying to keep his voice down. Anyone could be listening.

“Me? What about that man being beaten in the street?” Roderich replied, not looking, not slowing down, leading the four of them down the sidewalk with his angry speedwalking.

“But you couldn’t have done anything by yourself…” Elizaveta pleaded with him.

“So I’m the only one who cares if that man lived or died? And where did they take him?”

“Nein, you're not the only one who cares, Roderich! We don’t know where he's taken him, but it couldn’t be anywhere worse than prison - look, bitte, you just need to calm down. I understand your position right now; we just need to understand what’s going on and why this is happening,” Gilbert ran forward and grasped Roderich’s elbow, slowing him down.

Quietly, almost inaudible, Ludwig in the back of the group muttered to himself.

“He was the one breaking the law though…”

“What was that?!” Roderich yelled, spinning around to confront him. He pushed his way past Gilbert and Elizaveta to get right up in Ludwig’s face, unintimidated by his height.

“Are you telling me you seriously agree with Hitler?” Roderich fumed. “You’re lower than I thought Ludwig…”

“I’m just saying there’s nothing wrong with making distinctions between different groups of people.”

“Right, the distinction being some on top, some crushed on the bottom, right? I’ve given you lots of passes Ludwig but this is serious. You can’t be on their side, not after what we just saw.”

“A law being enforced?”

Roderich grabbed Ludwig’s coat collar, not shaking or shoving, just holding tight.

“No! That man was dragged away by the state! What’s next after the stars? They’re just making us visible targets to be taken away and exterminated somewhere.”

Ludwig scoffed, pushing Roderich’s hands off him.

“Please, that’s not going to happen. You’re drunk Roderich.”

“Only as drunk as you are Ludwig. You want to support a party that would lock up people like us?” Roderich asked, his voice quiet with anger as he gestured back toward the three of them, Ludwig alone facing them.

“What are you talking about? People like you? Gilbert’s not-”

“I’m albino, you dumbass,” Gilbert sighed, suddenly feeling a lot older as he dragged a hand down his face.

“You two head home, okay? Eliza, please keep an eye on Roderich if he does anything stupid,” Gilbert huffed, walking towards Ludwig. “Don’t worry, I’ll give him an ear full,” Gilbert reassured Roderich, turning to pat his little brother's shoulder.

“Come on, let’s go home, little bro; we’ve got a lot to talk about.”

Ludwig stood still and watched them leave. He felt like he’d missed something. He hadn’t considered the fact that his brother might be on their undesirables list. But of course, he would be… Hereditarily diseased offspring, as they put it.

Ludwig felt his mind racing, rationalizing as he walked alongside his brother. Even if it was an unworthy trait, the Nazis were also the only ones trying to change it. During the speech, they spoke of their legions of scientists and eugenicists working to crack the code of human DNA, untangle the mystery of genetic mutation. Gilbert would be better off if he could be cured. And if the Nazis were the only ones trying to fix people like his brother, even if their methods were cruel, he would follow them without hesitation.

Ludwig nodded to himself, finally settling on something.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully we're going to be able to update weekly for y'all <'3

Gilbert had a lot on his mind, the walk to home was a deathly silence that stretched on even as the two brothers made it inside the house. Gilbert couldn’t forget about what had occurred that evening, pursing his lips in deep thought as his mind went in constant circles. Elizaveta -- sweet, sweet Elizaveta -- the tramped time seemed to wear Gilbert's chance of confession ever thinner, it was only a matter of time before Gilbert was sent to the gallows with his friends.

“H-hey, Ludwig,” Gilbert spoke up, his heart racing and thumping loudly in his ears. “You know about me and Eliza, right? Can - you do me a big favor? You can say no, but I trust you a lot - and, I couldn’t ask Roderich, you're the only person I could ask,” Gilbert tried to explain, twiddling his fingers anxiously - a thing he often did when he was on edge or nervous.

“Can… we.. practice... Kissing? I mean-- gott.” Gilbert was tense, his cheeks turned a deep crimson. “It would mean a lot if you could help me, Luddy.” Gilbert couldn’t look at his brother directly in the eye anymore as he hung his head, shameful at the request. Gilbert was prepared for the onslaught of taunts or shouts.

“Practise…?” Ludwig asked cautiously, not sure if this was a trick. He wouldn’t be the first to show his hand, not if this turned out to be some sort of practical joke. Despite the uptick in his heartbeat, eyes dilating slightly at the sight of Gilbert’s worry-nibbled lips, Ludwig was determined not to move. “What for?”

Gilbert didn’t expect that response, no matter how tempting it was to meet Ludwig’s eyes as he scratched the back of his head.

“I wanna… be able to confess to Eliza tomorrow, I’ve been uh, too nervous to ask her out and I just need a little help, I’ve never kissed before and I want Eliza to know she’s safe with me and I know what I’m doing, you get me?” Gilbert couldn’t help but feel incredibly selfish at this request, but Ludwig was the only person he could count on. “I’m no homo, just - I need to practice, get me? We won’t have to think of it ever again and just pretend it never happened. Sound fair?”

“No homo... “ Ludwig repeated, turning the concept over in his mind while his eyes shamelessly undressed his brother. He was really serious… Such a shame he wanted someone who wouldn’t even look at him, especially when he was right here. Maybe he could show him, maybe he felt the same and just didn’t know it yet.

“Always brother, of course. What’s family for?” Ludwig said and felt a thrill of excitement course through him as he said the words, feigning nonchalance. This was no big deal, just helping his brother become a better kisser. He didn’t bother mentioning that he had no experience either, it didn’t seem to matter. Didn’t mention how the thought lit a flame deep in his belly and made everything strain towards him. His bright brother Gilbert…

He grabbed a bottle of cognac from the back of the cabinet, something saved for special occasions. He deposited a single piece of ice each in two tumblers and poured a couple of fingers of the amber liquid over it. He turned and motioned with his head.

“Come on, let’s get more comfortable,” Ludwig said, handing him the drink.

Gilbert felt a pang of guilt at hearing family and brother - what kind of brother would do this? Gilbert took a hold of the offered drink as he found himself indulging in it, pulling his head back as he downed the glass shot. How was this going so smoothly? Was Ludwig up to something? Gilbert wasn’t too sure, something like that was so uncharacteristically accurate for Ludwig.

Ludwig thought of heading to the sitting room but realized if they sat together like that, Gilbert would be able to see when he was hard. So instead he leaned against the wall so he was just a bit shorter, opened his arms, and gave a smile.

“Alright, so, pretend I’m Elizaveta. How would you start?”

“Okay, well -- a-ahem,” Gilbert cleared his throat, his eyes finally meeting Ludwig’s for the first time since his obscure request. It was difficult to imagine his brother as Elizaveta, for they looked nothing alike, but this was his only chance to practice to get it right, he had to do this!

“H-hey, Eliza! You’re lookin’ cute this mornin’” Gilbert sheepishly grinned, trying to not feel so out of place. “I hope you have time to spare, but I’d like to talk to you about somethin’ -- oh, what about ---!” Gilbert said with finger guns, blowing on the tip as he gave Eliza a wink. “Hey, sweet cheeks~ you’re looking mighty sexy this morning~” Gilbert cooed, leaning into Ludwig.

“We’ve been best friends since for like, ever, aaaaand I’ve been having these feelings for awhile -- you mean like, a lot to me and you’re amazing, your smile makes me feel all warm inside and you smell so nice - you have nice round tits - oh, maybe not that - the last time I said that she slapped me, but boy did that feel good!” Gilbert chuckled. “Mmm, maybe more subtle?” Gilbert hummed, taking it from the top when it went wrong.

“You mean a lot to me and you’re amazing, your smile makes me feel all warm and bubbly inside and you smell so nice - you look gorgeous every day, you're like a blessing from heaven and you're so talented at everything you do!” Gilbert decided to stop there, otherwise, it might have been an overload of affection borderline creepy. With each confession Gilbert leaned ever closer, enthralled by the obscure scene as he slowly brought their lips together. It felt so strange, so strange. “Ich liebe dich, Elizaveta…” Gilbert whispered under his breath, their noses brushing against one another.

Ludwig held his breath as Gilbert drew closer to him, leaning against him, hands on his shoulders, and now bringing their faces together. Ludwig ignored the prattling words, though he did cling to ‘Ich liebe dich,’ just so he knew what that sounded like, and would be able to imagine Gilbert saying that to him whenever he wanted now. Every sense was fully awake, mapping and memorizing every nuance of the moment, this rare opportunity that possibly would never come again. Gilbert’s face filled his sight, his breath warm, they were sharing the same space, the same air, his lips so close he could feel the slight heat rising from them. He was right there.

Gilbert took the case of no resistance as confirmation to proceed, finally bringing their lips together as he closed his eyes, heart racing widely as he pressed chest to chest. There should have been a soft bosom to lean into, but there wasn’t. Gilbert couldn’t help but be a little disappointed.

Ludwig however, was not disappointed. It was worse - it felt even better than he imagined possible. The contact of the lips sent electric shivers through him, soft and warm and wet, moving gently against his. It made him feel ravenous, strange, and he slipped his arms around Gilbert to hold him and deepen the kiss, pressing their mouths together until they were both slick. There wasn’t much of a rhythm, just the slipping of two mouths together, searching each other out.

Ludwig felt helpless, desperate, a soft groan rumbling up his throat as Gilbert’s body shifted against his. He held tighter, heart-pounding, sweat already forming as the kiss picked up speed. They had a lovely dance between them now, and Ludwig wanted to get closer, wanted to be inside him. Between the pressing of their lips, he slipped his tongue out, licking tentatively against Gilbert.

Gilbert’s eyes widened at the soft sound of Ludwig’s moan, a sound so strange and bizarre to his ears as the blush deepened down to his neck. Gilbert was confused, but for some odd reason his body was enjoying the love it was given, his lips opening up before he even had the chance to think. That was the thing, Gilbert couldn’t think. Gilbert was so focused on those wet lips, made Ludwig’s lips almost seemingly full as he pressed against her, sighing through his nose as he brought his hips upwards.

Ludwig felt the sigh, felt Gilbert’s jaw slacken and he pushed his tongue inside, a deep-seated urge compelling him to stand to his full height so he was taller once again, head tilted down over Gilbert’s to claim him, kissing deeply into his mouth, drawing his tongue into the movement until they were both panting against one another, tongues twined together. It felt amazing, he wanted to stay connected forever, wanted to press him in tighter until there was no more space between them. Ludwig squeezed his arms around him, using his height and strength to lift Gilbert to his toes and then flip them so their positions were reversed with Gilbert being the one kissed against the wall and Ludwig being the one leaning in.

He liked this, right? He was kissing back and everything so it had to be okay. Ludwig felt his control slipping, felt the frantic need climb through his loins, rubbed their bodies together, his hands gliding up and down Gilbert’s sides, feeling his waist, his ribs, resting on his hips before sweeping back to his ass, two handfuls, gripping hard and jerking their pelvis together. Their mouths never parted, Ludwig felt himself moaning into it unabashedly, rolling his hips against his brother, tonguing him deeply, just them and no one else in the world.

Gilbert didn’t mind losing a bit of control, anything for as long as Eliza felt comfortable with him. Gilbert softly groaned in the passionate kiss, felt his hands feverishly roaming as she thrust her hips into him, getting Gilbert excited and riled up as he felt for her front, expecting her cunt to be there but distraught and alarmed as pulled back aggressively, slamming his head into the wall as the blurry outline of Ludwig began to see itself right, taking in his primal expression, how he over towered Gilbert -- who stiffened as he felt a large cock throb in his hands.

This was -- Gilbert gasped sharply, pushing Ludwig away with all his might as he felt his own cock go flaccid in his pants.

“W-w-what the hell, Ludwig!” Gilbert screeched, blushing like mad as he escaped under his brother’s arms, his thoughts going wild with what just had happened.

“I-I’m going to bed - bye!” Gilbert shouted frantically, thundering up the stairs and making it into his bedroom, slamming the door shut as he pressed his back against it, sliding down to the floor as he grasped his hair tightly with distress - what the fuck, had just happened-- how did he allow it--!? Gilbert couldn’t think straight with wild panic.

\---

Ludwig stood abandoned in the kitchen, still braced against the wall where they had just been pleasuring each other. What - what had just happened? When Gilbert had screamed he jerked back automatically, startled enough to lose his grip as Gilbert slipped past. He wouldn’t even look him in the eye, stammering and running away without an explanation. Ludwig stood completely still as he listened to him run up the stairs and head straight for his room, shutting Ludwig out entirely.

It happened so fast… He hadn’t been ready for it to be over. Even if they didn’t go further, what did Gilbert expect from him? Asking to make out and then running away when he responded? Yes, he knew this was allegedly about Elizaveta, but she wasn’t the one who cared enough about Gilbert to make him moan. She wasn’t the one who had claimed his first kiss, given him his first taste. She probably didn’t care for him at all in that way. Gilbert was chasing a lost cause.

So why else did he come to him? If not an excuse to indulge?

Ludwig felt a bitter black cloud condense in his chest. It would be better if Elizaveta weren’t around, then maybe Gilbert could give up the notion. Would realize he felt the same way about him that he did. Ludwig could wait. He knew it could take a while to accept. He’d fought down the feeling in himself for years, believed that they weren’t “right”. He would have been content to let them remain wrapped up tight, a little repressed kernel in his heart. But Gilbert had busted that door wide open, throwing himself on Ludwig, and now that the feelings were unfurled and leaking out into reality, Ludwig knew there was no going back, no restuffing them back down.

Instead of reading a book, taking a cold shower, shaming himself, or just ignoring it as he would have done in the past, Ludwig instead opened the fly of his trousers, drew his rigid dick out, braced one arm against the wall while he quickly and quietly beat himself. The air still smelled like him, he was in his arms just a moment ago, and if Gilbert wasn’t going to take responsibility then Ludwig would bring it to him.

“Oh, Gilbert, sweet Gil, oh gott, oh gott, oh gott - brother!” Ludwig gasped and came quickly, imagining his brother pinned to the wall as he should have been, and caught the ejaculate in his hand. The release gave him some relief, but it was fleeting. He couldn’t relax, not when he knew there was now a possibility for more.

\----

Gilbert never managed to sleep a wink that night as he tried to get rid and ignore those feelings he had when Ludwig was kissing him, touching him in areas that made him feel good. Slowly the albino crept down the stairs early the next morning and managed to make it past the threshold before he noticed a figure in the corner of his eyes, door already open as he didn’t make any eye contact with his little brother.

“Oh-- hey, Lud! Byeeee!” Gilbert slammed the door and broke into a run, breathing heavily through his nose as his chest quickly raised and fell. That was too fucking close, man!

Gilbert couldn’t face his brother again, not after what happened last night. Gilbert felt nothing but shame, his shoulders tense as he ran to someone he called a dear friend.

Gilbert ran and ran until he finally made it to his destination; Eliza’s house. Gilbert was already prepared for rejection, but he supposed he didn’t mind so much at this point anymore. Hanging his head as he approached the small little garden he hesitated to knock on the door, biting his lip anxiously as he scratched at the back of his head. If only Gilbert wasn’t stupid and asked Ludwig to do that --- then maybe, things wouldn’t have turned out like… this? All because of his selfish wants and needs?

Elizaveta opened the door before Gilbert had a chance to knock. She looked surprised to see him.

“You’re early Gil, are you alright?”

Gilbert looked up with just an equal of surprise, lowering his arm down. “Urh…. Hey! Eliza -- can, we… talk?” Gilbert was awful at expressing his vulnerabilities, absolutely hated it - but this was something necessary, something had to be done and Gilbert didn’t know what to do!

“Please, come inside. Let’s talk about it and I’ll make you a cup of tea.” She ushered him in, already noticing the tension in Gilbert, the way he picked at each fingertip over and over in a nervous loop. She got out two mugs, placed a teabag in each, and poured the water, asking conversationally as she poured.

“So, that was pretty wild last night, huh?”

Gilbert flinched violently as if he was caught red-handed, a startled deer caught in the headlights. Today was supposed to finally be the day Gilbert would confess to the love of his life and they would live happily ever after! But not this. He rubbed his elbow as he felt like he was intruding. How could Eliza possibly know about what ha-- then it hit him, Gilbert’s mouth going into a long “ooooohhhhhh” as he stood there awkwardly, out of place.

“Yeah! Wild, I couldn’t believe it.” That was the last thing on Gilbert’s mind.

“I thought for sure Roderich was going to punch Ludwig… Can you imagine? Who would win that fight, ha!” Eliza laughed lightly at the thought. Roderich was much too bookish for that.

“Still, I am worried about Ludwig. He seems confused about, well, a lot of things. Did you both have a good talk last night?”

Gilbert laughed, but it sounded far too strained to his ears as he waved his hand dismissively.

“I wouldn’t bet on either of them, to be honest, hehe- urh, about that - uhm, things went… a little, too far..” Gilbert bit his lower lip as he held up his shoulders and bowed his head in shame, couldn’t meet Elizaveta’s eyes - for the previous night he had been imagining it was her, not Ludwig, as they shared an intimate kiss.

Elizaveta’s face tightened with concern.

“What happened? Did you two argue? Let me guess… He wants to join the Nazis.” Elizaveta said deadpan.

Gilbert shook his head, his silver hair dancing. “No- no! Ludwig would never do that! He’s smarter than that!”

“Oh, well I just thought… The things he was saying last night, that’s Nazi rhetoric for sure… I mean, don’t get me wrong. I’m glad I’m not right, I’m just not used to it.” She laughed again, a bit more forced this time, and then extended a hand to Gilbert across the table and clasped his.

“Alright, now tell me, Gilly. What’s troubling you?”

Gilbert’s eyebrows furrowed high and deep, conflicted whether or not he should confess what had happened last night. Gilbert knew he couldn’t keep it in forever and what was the worst thing Eliza could do, throw him out? Gilbert wasn’t ready for that -- but he needed to talk to someone he could trust. His hand shook in her hold, inhaling and exhaling deeply as he thought through his words carefully.

“L-last night… I did something, terrible...Ludwig- I-- I asked him if I could practice kissing with him because the other night I was thinking it was going to be o-our last, and I wanted to confess my feelings to you somehow -- but I didn’t want you to think me as lame or not knowing what I was doing -- I wasn’t thinking straight, but we kissed and I was turned on as he pinned me against the wall,” Gilbert quickly finished, pulling his arm back to hide his burning, shameful face. Gilbert's voice had grown more panicked and spoke more feverishly.

“What have I done!? I can’t look him in the eye anymore, we briefly bumped into each other but I ran here, I’ve fucked up so bad!” Gilbert groaned. The albino was an absolute coward running away and should have said something there and then, but he couldn’t muster any courage at all to meet Ludwig’s disappointed expression.

Elizaveta stood up to come and sit next to Gilbert, right up close to him, and put an arm around him. She cooed and gently pulled his hands away from his face.

“Hey, hey…. Gilbert, it’s okay. Well, I’ll be honest, this is not what I expected from you but that - but that doesn’t matter. I’m not going to condemn you. What you did was a genuine mistake, right?”

Gilbert bobbed his head up and down, he felt comforted, but Gilbert didn’t deserve the affection as he just sat there.

“Of course I am?! How could I do that to my little brother?!” Gilbert hissed, clenching his fists in a tight ball. “Look, can I… please, just stay with you for the rest of the day?” Gilbert sighed, sounding unsure of himself.

“Of course you can… I can even go with you when you’re ready to go back, we can figure out what you’re going to say together.”

“Nein! No, you don’t have to go that far... This is my problem and I’ve created it, all I can just say is danke for listening to me and not throwing me away, even after hearing such a disgraceful thing upon society. Believe me, Elizaveta, if I had thought about it more I wouldn’t have gone through with it. I don’t love Ludwig like that, I love you, Eliza.”

Elizaveta blushed, felt the familiar sadness that always accompanied those words.

“Oh, Gilbert, I knew one of two things was going to happen today. Either you were going to confess to me, or Ludwig would join the Nazis. Of the two, I’m grateful it’s you.” She paused and looked him in the eye, took his confession, and his feelings seriously.

“But-” Elizaveta paused again, overcome for a moment. She took a deep bracing breath. “This part never gets easier…”

“Huh, what are you talking about?” Gilbert questioned, expression perplexed.

“I’m talking about the part where I have to let down such a kind, sweet, astonishing person who always makes me smile and challenges me and supports me and I know who loves me,” Eliza responded.

“But if you feel that way about me, then why?” He shouldn’t even have to have asked that at all, already knowing the answer--

“Well, because I like women.” Elizaveta paused, seeing he wasn’t getting it. “Sexually.”

Gilbert blinked rapidly, his mind absolutely blown. How was that even physically possible?!

“H-how do girls… have sex? What do you use, a toothbrush?” Gilbert thought out loud,  
“I thought you were like, interested in Roderich or something but, eh, I dunno… My head hurts.” Gilbert scrunches up his nose. “Wait, wait, wait, so let me get this straight - you don’t like men? You only like women?”

“Roderich, he’s just my cover. But, I’ve had to have this conversation with him too. More than once actually… Yes, I don’t like men and only like women and we don’t do it with toothbrushes silly,” Elizaveta swatted playfully at him. “We are called lesbians. And you have got to keep that to yourself because guess who else is on Hitler’s naughty list?”

“Wow, that’s… urh… actually, pretty damn hot! Why would Hitler want to hate that?” Gilbert grinned. “But don’t worry, your secrets are safe with me - just as long as you do the same for me.”

“Of course. Though I have to say, for having just been rejected, you’re taking this pretty well. You sure you still want to stay over?”

“O-oh yeah, I mean… I was already kinda anticipating a rejection after what I did to Ludwig and telling you... but I think I should confront Ludwig about it later tonight and just get it over with.” Gilbert smiled meekly.

“Yeah, I think that’s a good idea. Friends?” Elizaveta asked, opening her arms to draw him in for a hug.

Gilbert gave off his signature grin as he embraced the Hungarian girl. “Always!”.

They held each other for a moment and then released. Elizaveta felt lighter already, the confession/Nazi conundrum had been bothering her all night. Now it was over with and she had a taboo little puzzle to solve instead. She still wasn’t exactly comfortable with the idea, either one of them lusting for the other was strange, but she knew she could support her friend through it even if she didn’t understand it herself. That’s how it was for her too, people not understanding. She wasn’t going to hold anything back.

“So, I think you should say something like…” Elizaveta cleared her throat, lowered the pitch of her voice, and mimicked Gilbert. “OH, my dear little brother Ludwig… I was very drunk last night and so were you. That kissing business in the kitchen was a mistake, and won’t happen again. Thank you very much.” Elizaveta laid it on thick, taking a bow at the end.

“What do you think, something like that would work, right?” She asked.

Gilbert sheepishly grinned and nodded. “Yeah, something like that.”

\----

After Gilbert ran away from Ludwig that morning before he’d even had a chance to say a word, he was left to his thoughts which had only stained darker throughout the night. He had already made his decision and had planned to talk to Gilbert about it over breakfast but when he ran away without any explanation, avoiding him, Ludwig knew he couldn’t wait.

He went to the city that very morning, headed straight to the nearest Nazi recruitment office, and was the first in line when they opened. He was single-minded as he stepped forward to speak with the interviewer.

“I would like to enlist - I’m interested in your genetic mutation division.”

The onboarding hadn’t taken long at all since they were always desperate for recruits and the suit fit better than Ludwig dreamed. The tight disciplined lines of the uniform forced his shoulders back, standing tall and straight and imposing as he was meant to. No more hunching, cowering and pretending.

He already had a contact as well, someone who was researching albinos for the Nazis. They had been very interested when he’d mentioned his brother. Once again proving they were the only party who cared.

Ludwig went home after his first day, the first mission already in hand.

\----

Gilbert returned home later that evening than he anticipated - but he was approaching home nonetheless. Upon coming closer he saw the Nazi flag draped outside his bedroom window, a large mass of scarlet fabric that had Gilbert’s heart-pounding anxiously as he ran the rest of the way home, alarmed to find the door ajar and open.

Without a shred of hesitation Gilbert barged inside and frantically looked around in the living room, nothing appeared to be touched or out of place -- but why was that offensive flag hanging outside their home, why was the door open!?

“Hey, Ludwig!?” Gilbert called out, feeling rather unsafe despite being in his own home. “Where are you?! You here, buddy?! Look - What happened yesterday night, it was stupid! I shouldn’t have done that- We were both drunk! I’m sorry! Ludwig!?” Gilbert went further into the house, growing tense as all he was met with darkness and silence. “Ludwig?”

“Hello, Gilbert. Where have you been all day?” Ludwig’s voice emanated from the darkened sitting room, the shadowy silhouette of him sitting in a chair, leg folded as if relaxing.

Gilbert jumped almost ten feet in the air as he whirled around, seeing the outline of him sitting down. Gilbert squinted his eyes trying to see through the thick darkness.

“I’ve been with Eliza all day and -- why is the light turned off? Have you been watching a movie? What's with the flag outside, why was the door open?”

“I’ve been pretty busy actually… I’ve done a lot for us today.” Ludwig didn’t move, didn’t turn on the light sitting next to him. “Don’t worry, I know who put it there.” Ludwig didn’t offer anything else beyond that.

After another tense moment, Ludwig slowly got up. “But really, I don’t think you’re stupid. Not at all. What happened yesterday was maybe confusing, certainly, but I know deep down you felt it too. You know it was right.”

Gilbert stood there flabbergasted. “You can’t mean the kiss, right?”

“Of course, our special bond as brothers. It felt good, didn’t it? I know you liked it. And I also know you didn’t confess to Elizaveta because you came back here. To me. It was just an excuse to try, wasn’t it?” Ludwig stalked closer, coming around the seat.

Gilbert could see Ludwig’s shadow stalking closer, what the fuck was Ludwig talking about?

“Ludwig, did you hit your head or something?” Gilbert questioned, taking a step back - he wasn’t sure why exactly, but his gut was telling him something was wrong. “I came back to tell you I’m sorry for what I did! But I promise you, Ludwig, it won’t ever happen again, ever! I swear it!”

Ludwig stopped and stared with a dense, deafening silence.

“No, you’re wrong Gil. You just don’t know it yet. But that’s okay, you asked me for help and I’m going to help you. Whether that’s kissing you-” Ludwig stepped forward, emerging from the dark room.

“Touching you-” The light crept up his pants, sharp gunmetal grey,

“Fucking you-” the leather belt, the heavy iron buttons,

“Or fixing you…. I’m going to be the one to do it.” Ludwig stood tall in full view, proudly wearing a complete Nazi soldier uniform.

Gilbert listened to his brother’s voice, watching as he began to reveal himself from the darkness that had Gilbert’s jaw almost drop to the floor, his eyes vivid and ablaze with anger as his eyes zoned in on the swastika stitched onto Ludwig’s arm.

“What the fuck is that, Ludwig!? Why are you wearing -- that!?” Gilbert gestured to his uniform, his ears ringing with blood as he took a step back toward the door. Gilbert had nowhere to go and the nonsense blabbering from Ludwig’s mouth was concerning.

“Fucking me---?! Ew, no! That’s incestuous, that’s wrong, Ludwig! Are you seriously hearing yourself right now!?” Gilbert snarled, deep and low as he felt his shoulders tensing up.

Ludwig felt the black cloud inside him billowing, crackling. A twisted sense of shame, anger, despair, but above it all fear blooming from Gilbert’s words. He knew it was fucked up, but then… then why?

“Are you hearing yourself? You’re the one who wanted to kiss me, you’re the one who got hard and was moaning in my mouth. If that’s wrong, then you’re wrong with me brother. I would have been fine pretending the rest of my life, you’re the one who barged in and made me feel this way. This is your fault. Take some responsibility.” Ludwig stepped closer, was nearly before Gilbert.

Gilbert accepted that this was his responsibility, but what Ludwig was saying was far out of line and he was coming too close for comfort.

“Fine, I accept that, but I said I'm sorry! I’m sorry for making you feel like that!” Gilbert snarled, feeling ensnared in a trap - he wasn’t too sure if he’d be able to make it out the front door or not, but his brother needed a sense of reality check.

Gilbert clenched his fists and punched Ludwig square on the nose, the unexpected action seemingly stunning his brother as he dashed toward the front door. What the fuck did Ludwig mean, would have been fine pretending for the rest of his life? What did that even mean?

“Graahhh!” Ludwig stumbled back, momentarily stunned by the unexpected pop to the nose. Gilbert hadn’t punched him like that in years and it took him completely by surprise. He stumbled but recovered quickly, shaking his head and getting his balance back. He turned to see Gilbert running toward the front door and he darted forward to slam it back shut just as he managed to get it open and pull it inward. Ludwig didn’t stop, grabbed Gilbert, and held him tight, leaning in to crush him against the front door he’d almost escaped from, back to front.

“Gilbert!” Ludwig yelled, angry from his nose hurting, from his brother making it so difficult.

“I’m going to make you sorry if you do that again,” Ludwig growled, pressing his full body against Gilbert, already reacting and growing hard despite the pain still radiating from his nose. Gilbert couldn’t move, couldn’t fight back or run away, and Ludwig for a moment just wanted to appreciate the contours of his body, the way he fit between his arms, against his chest, the perfect fit. Ludwig hugged him close, and let his hips lazily push against Gilbert’s firm ass, show him how he affected him.

“Oh Gil, look what you’ve done to me again. Even when I’m mad at you, I love you,” Ludwig ground up hard, letting his clothed dick ride smoothly up and down the crease of Gilbert’s ass.

Gilbert's eyes widened as he felt his brother’s hard cock press against the crack of his clothed ass cheeks. Gilbert was left breathless as his face smushed against his only means of escape. Gilbert flushed, but he didn't feel anything - the only word coming to mind was fear.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it all figured out,” Ludwig whispered harshly in Gilbert’s ear, not stopping his grinding for a moment. “I’m going to fix you, Gil, I’m going to find someone who can cure your albinism. Then you’ll be safe! And we can only do it with the power and access the Nazis are offering, that’s why I joined, so I can find a cure for you.”

Gilbert couldn't hear what Ludwig was saying within his blood gushing ears, a voice so cruel Gilbert had never heard it from his little brother before.

"What the fuck are you talking about?! You can't seriously be joining them - for this! There's nothing wrong with me being albino, the only problem here is you!”

“Gilbert, gott, can you just, shut up, for one minute?” Ludwig started rutting hard against him, his words coming out in a stutter as his breath came in hot quick pants, biting against Gilbert’s shoulder and gripping his hips like iron. “Just- let- me- ah…..” Ludwig jerked and pinned him against the door as he continued grinding.

Gilbert snarled, wincing loudly as Ludwig bit down on his shoulder, as he curled his hands into fists. Was Ludwig? He couldn't have - Gilbert felt the sensation of bile rising, gagging violently as he felt the thickness of an erect dick across his bum... With wild panic, Gilbert thrust his head backward against Ludwig's nose again, seeing stars as he felt the need to rinse off what had just happened, what Ludwig had just done.

"The fuck is wrong with you?! We’re brothers, brothers!”

Ludwig felt the blow to his head, hitting right against his bruised nose, it shot stars across his vision, the pain overcoming his desire for friction. However, it wasn’t strong enough to push him back and he grabbed Gilbert’s forehead, forced him to arch his neck back against Ludwig so he couldn’t move, completely immobilized with his throat bared.

“Goddamn it, Gilbert. Stop fighting me! I knew you might not agree with the Nazi thing, but believe me, I’m doing this for your good!” Ludwig pulled out a chloroform-soaked rag from his back pocket that the Nazis had given him and shoved it over Gilbert’s upturned nose and mouth.

The albino tensed as he felt the back of his head press against Ludwig’s broad shoulder, neck exposed and his breathing uneven as he flailed to escape.

"Let go, mother fucker!" Gilbert cursed, raising his voice loud until the cloth was slapped over his nose and mouth. Darkness quickly enveloped Gilbert as he inhaled a few times, there was no escaping it - falling limp and lifeless in Ludwig’s hold.

Ludwig cradled him and lowered Gilbert to the floor once he stopped resisting. He turned and settled him against the door he’d just tried to flee through, and knowing he’d already crossed whatever invisible line there was, Ludwig couldn’t help himself from peeking closer at his unconscious brother.

“Gil, why do you have to make things so difficult?” Ludwig mused, pushing his hair back from his closed eyes. His hand lingered, traced Gilbert’s cheeks, eyebrows, fingers lightly running across his lips… Oh, how Ludwig wanted him. It was out in the open now, and even if Gilbert didn’t agree he would find a cure. Then they could stay together without fear.

He would find a way to help Gilbert, whether he wanted it or not.


	3. Chapter 3

Gilbert moaned as he heard mumbling voices rousing him, his head throbbing with pain as he slowly regained consciousness. He slowly peeled open his eyes and was met with vivid, bright white lights that caused him to hiss through his teeth, closing them tightly again. He tried to lift his arm, pushing further only to find his wrists immobile and biting with pain. He tried his other arm, the same - Gilbert tried to kick his legs, but felt solid material nip into his ankles, a sudden chill running down his spine as he opened his eyes, panic-stricken at finding himself bound and naked on a metal… table? Gilbert wasn’t sure, but it was freezing.

“T-the fuck is going on?!” It took a moment for Gilbert to grasp what had happened before he passed out. Ludwig’s pinched brows and sorrowful expression… Being trapped against the door… His brother’s hot breath in his ear as he… As he… It hit Gilbert like a brick, so violent and sudden that it made him shake with anger and acid rise from his stomach. Ludwig had betrayed him - betrayed….

“Ludwig!?” Gilbert shouted, his voice panicked. “Come on, bro! Stop this sick fucking joke!” Oh, oh Gilbert wished for it to be so. End this sick, mother fucking nightmare. The murmur of voices he heard from before stopped, for now, a ruffing of paper - but Gilbert couldn’t see anything through the rays of white light over his head and the cold metal biting into his tender skin.

“Officer Beilschmidt, I am grateful for your contribution. Don’t worry, we will find a cure for your brother.” A cool clear voice with an accent, he was tall and pale, wearing a lab coat with a scarf and had a soft pastel smile. Despite his size, he looked friendly enough.

Ludwig leaned in to whisper. “Please, he’s all that I have. He needs to pass well enough to get through the eugenics commission.”

“Don’t worry, you’re with the party. He’s a… family. A patient, not a prisoner. I’ll take good care of him.” The doctor pulled a rattling metal tray out, tattoo gun that was well worn and industrial, ink preloaded with that same pale prison blue, numbers already flipped to a new combination.

“Wait, why the tattoo? He’s not one of them -“ Ludwig started to say.

“It’s simply to keep track of him within the system. You wouldn’t want to lose your brother in a camp scheduled for gassing, would you? With this number, you can track him. Know exactly where he is,” the doctor replied.

Ludwig felt himself giving in, the long-practiced ability to follow orders kicking in once again. Plus the idea of knowing the number of his brother’s file was appealing enough.

“Fine. Do it,” Ludwig said sharply.

Gilbert could hear Ludwig’s gruff voice and another that was strange to his ears - an accent he’d never heard before.

“Ludwig?! I said cut it out! Damn, mother fucker!” Gilbert cursed to the heavens, thrashing violently as he became more aware of his surroundings. Gilbert saw movement from the corner of his eye, yet the bright lights blocked his prominent features - all he could tell by the broad shoulders was that he was a man. It wasn’t Ludwig, but he had just heard his voice!

“Who the fuck you lookin’ at?!” Gilbert snarled, squinting his eyes - he had forgotten he was naked, exposed in front of a stranger.

Ludwig recognized the fear in his brother’s false bravado voice, knew there was no way to make him see things his way at this time, no way to make him understand. But soon. Soon he would realize he was doing this for his good. Eventually, Gilbert would thank him. Ludwig was silent as Ivan drew out the tattoo needle and began writing a string of numbers down the outside of Gilbert’s left forearm. Watched carefully as his brother’s face scrunched. Took note of the number and immediately memorized it.

Gilbert flinched at the cold hands, then flinched again when the buzzing needle dipped into his skin, a searing hotline that felt like it should burn or bleed but did neither. Instead, lines of neat blue numbers followed the pain and he simply had to wince through it. Luckily it didn’t last long.

“Gilbert, I’m leaving now. The doctor is going to help you so please, do us all a favor and just go along with it, okay? I’ll be back to see your progress soon.” Ludwig left the room, already turning his heart to stone as he knew the inevitable arguing that would follow. He ignored Gilbert’s pleading and turned cleanly on his heel, walking out of the lab and immediately starting toward the gymnasium. He needed to work some of his stress off by running ten kilometers and punching a sandbag for another hour or two.

Ivan watched the officer leave and turned to quietly marvel at his new acquirement. Never had such an exquisite specimen been hand-delivered to him like this, his skin translucent and flawless, his eyes clear and deep red, his lithe body type and the fact he was full of energy and life… Ivan knew they were going to become very close.

Gilbert heard footsteps walking away -- heavy and distant and panic surged through Gilbert as he violently thrashed.

“Ludwig!? Ludwig! Es tut mir lied! Es tut mir lied!” Gilbert wasn’t sure why, but he had a feeling that there was something not quite right with this doctor. Gilbert couldn’t place his finger on it.

He watched as the boy continued to yell for his brother, to be let loose, and a slew of other colorful insults. He smiled softly, knew he wasn’t always going to be like this. They never stayed as lively as when they first arrived in his lab. Ivan patiently watched him struggle against his bonds until he gave up and laid still panting, his chest rising and falling with anxiety at the thought of Ludwig leaving him here.

Ivan leaned over the table and smiled eerily at his subject.

“Welcome to your new home. Don’t worry about him, you’re part of our family now.”

“What are you talking about? I don’t even know you!”

Ivan smiled wider, savoring the confusion, the palpable fear.

“Don’t worry, you will. Be patient.” He stroked his cheek once and then straightened up to leave. He had to finish his other duties before he could indulge playing with his newest addition.

\----

Gilbert wasn’t sure how long he had been laying on the metal coffin, his arm stung to hell and back as he continuously drifted in and out of consciousness, mind lost to numbingly useless thoughts. The albino could feel a building pressure below his stomach and it was becoming harder and harder to ignore, especially in this position. Gilbert had tried catching anyone’s attention for a while, before falling silent as he took that opportunity to try and get a bearing of his surroundings. But now, he really needed to go.

“HELLOOOO!? Anyone here?!!! I need a friggin’ PEE MAN!!!” Gilbert hollered. If worse came to worst he’d piss on himself, but Gilbert wouldn’t degrade himself by such a lowly act if he could help it.

Toris, a Lithuanian lab assistant, heard the yelling as he walked down the hallway and stopped dead in his tracks. He knew another subject was supposed to be arriving today, but he had been told he was rejected and already headed for a cull list. He didn’t realize he was still there, didn’t know what the rules were around him just yet. Ivan was very… particular about his experiments.

Toris hovered in the hall, uncertain whether to ignore him and mind his own business or risk Ivan’s wrath for a peek. If he was still here despite being “culled”, was he going to be…?

Toris felt a conflicting surge of emotions, excitement, relief, sadness, guilt. He knew what was going to happen, couldn’t say he would change it if given the chance since it meant more peace for him. But the relief was accompanied by a pang of guilt so thick it still managed to stick in his throat. He didn’t wish that role on anyone, but neither could he keep doing it himself and survive. If this was to be the new sacrificial offering the least he could do was give him some help while he still dared to yell for it.

Toris glanced over his shoulder, checking both ends of the hallway before quietly opening the door to the surgical room and stepping inside. As soon as he saw him, he knew why Ivan had chosen to keep this one. He was albino, a depressing reality in this lab Toris knew from experience, but he was a young adult, thin, and most importantly, male. Toris suppressed a shudder and pushed the associated thought away. He knew there wasn’t much time, the last thing he wanted was to be caught in here without Ivan’s permission.

Gilbert twitched at the sound of a door clicking open, head trying to crane and turn towards the direction the sound was coming from.

“Is that you, doc?!”

“Shhh! Please, keep your voice down!” Toris said hurriedly, scurrying closer so they could talk. “If he hears us… Well… We don’t want him to hear us, ok?” He tried to smile at the albino, knew how disorienting it was to be kidnapped and laid out on an operating table.

“Hey, man - can you let me out? I seriously, need to pee,” Gilbert whined, his belly felt bloated, an uncomfortable and unfortunate sensation.

Toris’ face fell.

“I’m sorry, that’s not possible…. I’m not allowed…”

“Not possible?! Well, I’ll be damn If I’m blind or retarded, but what you’re wearing is a lab coat - so you have to be a scientist! You have to be in charge, so lemme out so I can pee, damn it!” Gilbert cursed.

Toris felt himself faltering beneath the demands. How annoying. He shouldn’t have come in here.

“You don’t understand… I’m not a scientist… Well, I am… what I mean is I’m not free either. We’re all prisoners here. I can’t let you loose - but I can at least give you a hand for now.” Toris turned to open a cabinet and pulled a rounded metal dish, it was shaped like a stretched oval, one end slightly raised.

Gilbert stared at the metal dish with crossed eyes, a perplexed expression on his face.

“Urh…. the fuck is that? How is that going to help me piss? Untie me.”

Toris blushed and felt embarrassed. Why did he have to get involved?

“It’s a bedpan. For you to… um, well…” Toris trailed off. His nerves were getting the better of him. He wanted to leave, what if Ivan walked in? But he’d already gone this far.

“I can help you… if you want.” Toris offered timidly, already moving to nestle the pan between his thighs.

“What the fuck- man! I’m no homo!” Gilbert screeched, the metal dish cold as it rested against his thighs - he squirmed, deliberately trying to roll the metal dish off him with no vail.

Toris felt the fear transform into frustration. Why did he have to make this so difficult? Couldn’t he see he was trying to help? He had no idea the danger he was putting them in by making so much noise.

“I’m not- just- look, you have to stop, OK? Ivan might hear and if he comes back - “

“What will happen if I come back, Toris?” Ivan asked as the doorway cracked open just enough so one pale eye peeked through. Toris yelped and dropped the pan where it clattered to the table between the albino’s legs. He immediately backed up, face pale, eyes wide, his voice already cracking from the internal straining.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please Ivan, please Ivan I’m so so sorry, I shouldn’t have come in here, I won’t do it again, I promise, please…”

Ivan stalked closer to Toris who cowered against the cabinet, lowering his face into his hands as he continued his terrifying string of pleas. He couldn’t even look at him. Ivan placed a heavy hand on his head, stroking the brown hair gently, feeling him shake beneath his palm.

“I believe you Toris, but you know you still need to be punished,” Ivan said quietly.

Toris sobbed when he heard that, begging turned to blubber in an instant. His voice was a small frail thing, rising in pitch and so far beyond capacity for embarrassment, he would give up any dignity to appease Ivan.

“Please, I’ll be good… D-daddy… Please...” Toris whimpered.

“ _Daddy?!_ What. The. Fuck.” Gilbert shouted as he tried to crane his neck to watch the two men converse. They completely ignored him.

“I know you will, little one. Go on ahead and get yourself ready,” Ivan replied, smiling wider at the title but it wasn’t enough to get him off the hook.

Toris crumbled a bit, sinking into his familiar dissociated place and became oddly still and quiet. Deflating as he nodded and headed for the door, shooting Gilbert an inscrutable look before he left.

Ivan walked over to the table, stood silently for a moment as his eyes drank in the long white body stretched out before him. He grabbed the bedpan from the table, irritated Toris had touched him with it - he had no right.

“Toris really should have known better. He knows the rules, so he’s going to be punished for breaking them.” Ivan turned to put the bedpan back in its cabinet. “You, on the other hand, I have to be gentle with you. Brand new, you don’t understand how things work around here yet.” Ivan turned to face him, leaned over him again, so close he could feel the heat rising from his skin.

“Don’t worry, I’ll instruct you very carefully,” Ivan said softly, raising his left hand and resting it gently on the boy’s lower belly, right over the swell of his full bladder. Slowly, he began to apply pressure.

“I’m the only one allowed to touch you unless I give permission. Understand?”

Gilbert squirmed, only just hearing Ivan behind his ringing ears as the doc leaned over him his large, strikingly cold hand cradling his bloating stomach as he began to feel the pressure slowly build up.

“That also includes you. You have to ask me for permission to eat, to sleep, to move, to urinate - all of it. It’s up to me to decide when, where and how you exist.” Ivan slowly increased the pressure, bearing down on Gilbert strapped to the table.

“You have to earn your privileges, and they will be taken away if you are bad. Now, I want you to hold it. Don’t let out a single drop,” Ivan murmured, his hand clenching into a fist as he pressed down _hard_ , leaning forward to drive his significant weight into it, the table creaking and Gilbert’s legs shaking as Ivan sank deeper, flattening and squeezing his bladder beneath the crush of his knuckles.

Gilbert yelled with fright at the sudden physical force, his body tensing under the painful strain but he couldn’t help it, couldn't stop it, as he suddenly felt a gush of warm, piss stream out of his slit, toes curling as he groaned in embarrassment feeling it spread across his thighs. Gilbert was an angry shade of red, the tips of his ears and neck, brimming with heat - his eyes were wide as he felt the vivid sensation of his pride and dignity bursting, how could he be subjected like this? He hadn’t done anything wrong!

“Yo-you psycho freak! The… the only person I listen to is myself!”

“Ah? Is that why you’re making a mess all over my lab?” Ivan asked, punching down even harder, the stream of piss spurting a bit further. “I told you not to spill anything. You just haven’t been house trained yet, have you?” Ivan smirked, tutting, patting Gilbert’s cheek just a touch too hard.

“Such a bad boy. And after I so carefully explained everything to you too.” He turned and went to the sink in the corner, washing and rinsing his hands while humming gently.

“Oh well. Don’t worry about it. We have plenty of time to make it right.” Ivan grabbed a clipboard and sat at the small desk in the corner of the room, knees bent awkwardly to fit the furniture that was meant for someone shorter. He jotted some notes for several minutes, ignoring Gilbert and the piss that was dribbling steadily from the table. The entire surface of it was covered, from his head to his toes, he lay in a shallow coating of quickly-cooling piss.

Gilbert felt himself curl inward - or at least he tried to, he despised how Ivan spoke so little and short of him. It made Gilbert's blood boil.

“House trained?! What the fuck do you think I am?! I’m not some animal for you to experiment on, I’m a fucking human! I have human rights!” Gilbert hollered, thrashing his head.

Ivan giggled. A soft, almost feminine laugh. He was genuinely amused; Gilbert already subconsciously knew what role he was destined to play it seemed. Ivan pushed back from the desk and stood, stretching and popping his back. He gave a deep, long luxurious sigh before turning to finally acknowledge Gilbert.

“How could you possibly have human rights when you don’t even exist?” His grin grew sharper. “We’re going to cross all sorts of lines together, you and I. There’s no Geneva Convention down here,” Ivan said, gesturing around the windowless room. He turned and strode towards the door, talking back over his shoulder.

“Well, Toris should be ready for me by now. Just have patience. I’ll take good care of you too, just you wait.” Ivan gave a final long glance over his subject and smirked, flicking the lights off and closing and locking the door.

Gilbert didn't understand, did not exist? Ivan’s laugh sounded strange and obscure to his ears. The albino blinked rapidly - he was right here! Breathing, talking, and living! This man was speaking madness! Gilbert couldn’t help but feel the rising panic as he questioned what the fuck had just happened, hearing Ivan’s distant footsteps as he was suddenly immersed by darkness before being thrown into a fit of panic.

“No- I'm not dead! I'm alive, breathing!” Gilbert shouted, was this what it felt like to experience death?

Gilbert’s ears were sensitive to sound, down the hall he could hear strange unidentifiable noises, like screams that kept getting cut off. Gilbert trembled in fear, wondering when this nightmare was going to end. He felt cold, super uncomfortable, hungry and his arm throbbed from the tattoo. What time was it? Was it a day, night?

Gilbert shuddered as he laid there immobile, not sure if his eyes were open or closed at this point. The horrid smell of his piss filled his nostrils. What the fuck was this place, and who was Ivan? Where was Ludwig? Why weren't there any windows? Questions continued to swirl in Gilbert’s mind but he couldn't find any answers as he was left alone, swallowed by darkness and unpleasant thoughts. The albino wanted to forget that this whole ordeal had even happened, wanted to forget Ivan, and how humiliating it was to have pissed all over himself. Yet he couldn’t, a constant reminder no matter how still he kept, the piss was becoming stale and ever colder as the night passed… Eventually, Gilbert passed out from exhaustion, and even in his dreams, he couldn’t feel safe.

\----

Ivan came back less than 2 hours later. Long enough to lull him into REM sleep, but not complete a full cycle. It was good to start the sleep deprivation subtly. He flicked the lights on as he walked in, humming softly.

“Hello guinea pig, I was so excited thinking about you and what we’re going to accomplish, I could barely sleep. Are you ready to behave? We’ll start by cleaning you up so we can begin-”

Gilbert's eyes flickered rapidly at the glaring white lights that filled his vision, hissing as he squinted his eyes, the strange man’s voice filled his ears as he tensed. Gilbert still felt incredibly tired despite falling in and out of consciousness.

“Fuck you, fuck you!” Gilbert shouted. “The fuck is this place!? Answer me, you damn bastard pig! I shouldn’t be in here, I don’t belong here!  
All night he had spent time pondering and now he wanted some answers. Ludwig had been so vague when he left him. The pain he was left to endure… his body ached, the smell of stale piss becoming normal.

“Guinea pig, you interrupted me,” Ivan said blankly, not acknowledging any of his questions. “And that cursing too, you have a filthy mouth. We’ll have to work on that.” Ivan said as he moved around the room, rummaging through the cabinet again, pulling out different tools and laying them out on the metal tray next to the table.

Gilbert snarled at the blank response, huffing angrily.

“What about my human rights, huh!? The way you're treating me is disgraceful - I’m a man, not some- some fucking guinea pig! I demand to be released, damn it! I have my rights!”

“Weren't you listening? I was looking forward to cleaning you too, but you’ll never learn if I’m not consistent. Guess you’ll be staying on the table then.”

He took a blood pressure cuff, wound it around Gilbert’s upper arm, and began to pump the rubber ball, placing a cool stethoscope in the crook of his elbow and listening to the pulse. He took note and left the cuff in place.

“What?! Nein! You can’t do this!” Gilbert continued to thrash, stilling momentarily he felt a tightening sensation grasping his upper arm, flinching violently as something cold pressed against his elbow, eyes frantically darting around as he tried to grasp what Ivan was doing to him. “What are you doing to me?!”

“Hmm. Getting some answers. I’m going to learn every secret your body holds. And the nice thing about that is your body is honest. Unlike your filthy mouth.” Ivan listened to the thrumming of his vein, could practically hear the drip of adrenaline as it ticked up in his system.

“Now, instead of pissing yourself like a dog, would you rather I let you go to the bathroom, puppy?” Ivan asked cooly.

Gilbert looked flabbergasted. “Excuse you, but I have a fucking name. Don’t call me a _dog_!" Gilbert emphasized. “I don’t know what your big deal is Mr hotshot, but you're messing with the wrong kinda guy - and as soon as I think of something to get out of this shit hole, you’ll regret it! Come on, you fucking coward! Let me out, and I’ll kick your sorry fat, ugly ass nose!”

Ivan leaned over Gilbert watching him struggle.

“Again, that language. So much noisy barking. I guess I have to be strict with you right away. Shame. It would have been nice to pamper you, but like I said last night - there are rules to be followed and privileges are earned. You haven’t earned a name yet.”

Ivan turned away, put rubber gloves on both hands before he picked up a long thin metal rod with a ring on top, it looked like some kind of dipstick for an engine but far more surgical and precise. The metal was shiny and sterile, long and flexible with the bottom end rounded to a smooth soft point.

“Since you’re not housebroken yet I’ll take measures for you,” Ivan said simply, and without waiting for Gilbert to figure out what was about to happen, he gripped his flaccid dick and held it upright, pulled the skin down, and used his thumb to push against the slit, opening it like a tiny mouth. He held the sounding rod like a needle poised for penetration, let the thin slick end of it push gently, slowly into the head of his cock. When Gilbert started thrashing Ivan held his dick steady, let go of the finger grip on the top. He watched with a slowly growing grin as Gilbert’s struggling and gravity slowly shifted the rod down and down until it hit against the base, internal sphincter spasming against metal.

Gilbert felt tears swell at the corners of his eyes as he felt it, felt something going inside a place where things shouldn't be! Fuck, fuck, how could it hurt this much? Gilbert groaned loudly with extreme discomfort, could feel sweat beginning to pool and splinter across his forehead, his body tensed with immense pain as his toes curled, needed to grasp onto something,

It hurt so much Gilbert couldn’t fathom any words, his chest quickly rising and falling in panic as he felt the small rod sink deeper, deeper.

“S-stop! _Stop!_ "

“No. This is punishment. You deserve this.” Ivan watched greedily as Gilbert’s body responded. It was beautiful, the cascading effect of a stress response. The pain etched into his voice. He could smell the fear rise up with the piss, a humiliating blend Ivan couldn’t help but inhale deeply.

“And this will help you learn your lesson. If you want to use the bathroom, you have to ask me. Say, ‘Please Daddy, let me use the bathroom so I don’t piss myself like a dog.’ Do you understand? Oh, well, maybe you can’t hear me right now. Hmm.” Ivan looked into Gilbert’s eyes which had glazed into shock from the pain of the sounding rod. “It’s fine, I’m very patient. I’ll make sure you know.” Ivan said, stroking his face.

Gilbert threw his head back and smacked it hard against the metal table, inhaling deep whining breaths as he felt like he was going to burst all over himself again, but he couldn’t, it hurt, hurt, hurt - tears threatened to spill and pool from Gilbert’s eyes, for he had never experienced such pain on this wavelength before.

“There, there… I know it hurts, you must remember this pain the next time you have the urge to yap.” Ivan looked at his cock which was flopped up against his belly, the ring pull of the sounding rod still dangling out the tip. He grabbed it, tugged ever so slightly, just enough to pull against the inside of his dick, and began to idly twist the rod, clockwise, then counter. The stethoscope was back and Ivan listened carefully as Gilbert’s pulse thundered rapidly, his screaming adding to the noise.

“Now, we’re not quite done. This applies to the back as well. We’ll start small,” Ivan murmured, letting go of the ring and picking up a rubber bulb, half the size of an egg, and more elongated with a flared base. He used one large hand to tilt Gilbert’s hips up as much as the restraints would allow and with his other he spread his ass cheeks wide, baring his hole. Ivan stared for a moment and appreciated the color, the hidden place no one had touched before him. He assumed.

The plug had already been sitting in its petri dish of lube so there was no pause between putting it in place against the puckered muscle and the process of forcing it in. Ivan smiled cruelly as the skin stretched and swallowed the rubber with a sudden wrenching pop.

“There, now you won’t have any more accidents, hmm?” Ivan lowered him back to the table, back to his pool of piss, and he turned to remove the gloves, wash his hands, and prepare the IV drip.

Gilbert couldn’t believe what he was experiencing, his thighs trembled and shook against this violent treatment, the albino almost felt faint, but the pain in his dick kept urging him back into reality, the ache unfurling as he felt his hips being raised upwards and a soft, miserable moan escaped his lips. He felt something hard and round enter him, his asshole straining against whatever the fuck Ivan was putting inside of him - somehow the bastard managed to squeeze whatever it was inside, he could feel something pop, and fuck -

Gilbert almost appreciated it when Ivan turned away, giving him relief from his stare absorbing his suffering if nothing else, however; the pain in his dick was unbearable and there was no room left for Gilbert to think, only hear himself scrape out the words Ivan wanted him to say.

 _"Please!"_ Gilbert gasped as thin, wet tears started streaming down his face. “P-please, d-d-daddy, let me use the bathroom so-so... I don’t p-piss myself.” Gilbert had never experienced such shattering humiliation. Couldn’t even fathom that a human could cause this much agony to another.

Ivan hummed in acknowledgment but didn’t stop what he was doing. He rolled a tall metal stand over and hung a plastic fluid-filled bag from a hook at the top and attached a long tube to the bottom. Once it was in place he turned back to Gilbert on the table.

“Good boy, you almost have it,” Ivan said, stroking his face again, thumbing away his tears. “Don’t piss yourself like?” Ivan prompted, cupping his cheek to roll his head toward Ivan’s direction.

Gilbert flinched as Ivan’s cold hand wiped his tears away, only for them to fall again as he met those harsh, haunting purple hues that sent shivers up and down his spine. Gilbert sobbed, a sound so strange to his ears as he just wanted the pain to stop.

"A-a _dog._ "

“That’s right. You’re nothing but a dog. That’s a good boy…” Ivan pinched the ring crowning Gilbert’s cock and slowly removed it, taking his time and sometimes giving little reverse presses back in, two inches forward, one back, stimulating the hypersensitive skin, stroking his dick from the inside out. He stayed close to Gilbert, caressing his face, watching his reactions carefully as he moved.

Despite the growing pain, Gilbert could feel some sick, twisted relief as Ivan’s hand was almost seemingly distracting him from the pain as the rod was slowly removed, could feel his cock tingle with some strange pleasure Ivan was giving him - exhaling deeply as he blinked some more wet tears away. Gilbert had never experienced such pain before, such humiliation. The albino had never known anyone so cruel as he felt those ghostly eyes stare into his very soul, calculating, judging him. Gilbert couldn’t stop the whimpering noises leaving his lips as he stared unseeing.

“I knew you could do it. See? That’s all it takes to be good,” Ivan concluded, finally, after what seemed like eons he slipped the rod out of his cock, the flesh flushed and half hard. “I can be nice too if you’re good,” Ivan said, letting the rod clatter to the table between his legs, gripping his dick instead, and palming it slowly.

Gilbert released a high pitched cry as the rod finally left his dick, toes curling and body tensing like a bowstring.

“Aah! Hah, ah,” The restrained man felt breathless, the release of Ivan’s pain a blessing. Gilbert rested his head against the metal table, but it wasn’t as if he had the chance to savor it as he felt his cock go hard and rigid under Ivan’s skillful palm, gasping in disgust.

“W-why…?” Gilbert croaked out.

Ivan watched his face crumble, enjoyed the distress he showed just from touching him there.

“How experienced are you? My little guinea pig,” Ivan asked, circling his thumb and fingers around Gilbert’s dick, pumping him in a steady rhythm.

Oh, Gott, that felt so good. Gilbert whined, closing his eyes tight; which he shouldn’t have done, for Gilbert could feel Ivan’s large hand, every ridge and crevice and ripple of skin as he pumped his dick with unwanted life. The sensation felt miraculous compared to the extreme pain, and he gave an open-mouthed moan as Ivan’s fingers touched the tip of the flesh. It felt so good Gilbert could cry with relief.

“N-n-not v-very...~”

“Hmm, yes. That’s very good. Such a good boy. I’ll show you everything, don’t worry,” Ivan said, genuinely pleased to have a virgin on his hands.

“No one has ever touched you here, have they?” Ivan pushed the pad of his thumb against the shallow dip beneath the cockhead, massaging the sensitive spot.

Gilbert’s back arched, the sensation almost taking away his breath as he felt his stomach coil.

“You’ve never had sex with anyone else? No woman, no man?”

“N-nein!” Gilbert shouted, feeling warm, hot tears pool and spill as he felt his hips rut and thrust against Ivan’s hand for some satisfaction.

“What about here?” Ivan’s hand cupping his face shifted, thumb tracing over Gilbert’s open lips.

Gilbert stilled, his hips hovering in mid-air with the image of Ludwig sledding through his mind as he remembered that night, how good it felt, how good he was feeling - but Ludwig, sweet little brother - Gilbert tensed up and squirted his load, groaning loudly at the never-slowing hand. Thinking of Ludwig should have turned him off, but Ivan’s skillful hands wouldn’t allow him even that.

“N…. Nien…” Gilbert withered, his hips lowering on the metal table to feel that thing inside of him again, his cock growing flaccid in Ivan’s hand as he tried to catch his breath, tried to get a grasp of his grounding.

Ivan milked him through his completion, squeezing out every drop, hand working automatically as he stayed hovered close to Gilbert’s face. He hadn’t failed to notice the way Gilbert jerked when he’d asked the last question, the thought of a kiss from his past enough to set him off.

“You know… Another rule is that you must never lie to me. I know you’ve kissed someone before. Tell me, who was it?”

Gilbert had never experienced such an intense climax, the cum landing on the flat of Gilbert’s belly as he felt Ivan’s warm breath as he shook his head with denial.

“No, b-bitte, I can’t….”

The pleading only drew out Ivan’s curiosity and sharpened it.

“You’re not allowed to deny me, you know what happens to bad boys, remember?” Ivan asked softly, fetching the rod from the table. He held it over Gilbert so he could see it, a few stray drops of piss falling on him. “Now, I’ll give you another chance, it’s a very simple question. Who kissed you?”

Panic surged through Gilbert like rabid wildfire as he saw the rod that had caused him so much pain, the words flurrying out his mouth before he could even stop them.

“Brother- M-my brother! Ludwig!” Gilbert squeezed his eyes tight, cowering under Ivan’s intense expression. Gilbert didn't want to think of what could happen next.

Ivan set the rod back down on the table, smiling eerily.

“Hmph. Disgusting,” Ivan said without any real emotion before he turned away dismissively and continued to talk. “Though it isn’t entirely your fault. I’m sure Officer Beilschmidt played his part too. So desperate to cure you...“ Ivan came back around with the IV needle in hand. “That he would give you to me, just like that. But don’t worry. He won’t bother you anymore. I’ll make certain you never have to see him again. You’re mine now and we’re going to do wonderful things together,” Ivan said, sounding almost wistful as he swiped his arm with sanitizer and pressed the needle through before it could dry, the stinging antiseptic burning into Gilbert’s vein.

“We will have plenty of time to peel back all your layers, my little guinea pig. But first, it’s time for you to do some work.” Ivan opened the drip on the bag of chemicals and watched as the light orange fluid slid down the tube and began to trickle into Gilbert’s body.

Gilbert whined at the burning sensation in his arm, his eyes growing wide as he felt the needle slide smoothly through his skin, the mysterious fluid flowing inside his body.

“B-bitte, I did nothing wrong! I-it was a huge mistake! I deserve another chance, please!” Gilbert had never groveled so pitifully, it was a striking blow to his ego.

“Oh, this isn’t punishment. This is your job. You’re going to help me test all sorts of compounds. We’re going to figure out how to extract this-” Ivan motioned to Gilbert’s body- “And turn it into something we can use.” He slipped out a thermometer and took Gilbert’s temperature from under his arm, took his blood pressure a second time, and then turned to his tiny table and began scribbling notes.

“Now tell me anything you’re feeling in your body. And if you need to puke say something before it’s too late. Understand guinea pig?”

Gilbert felt his arm burning up almost instantaneously, his fingers going numb.

“We’ll do a single infusion today and see what the effects are.”

Gilbert felt a new kind of terror race through him as he felt the serum leaking into him, past the burn of the needle a cold thick sensation was traveling through his arm, slowly up until it reached his shoulder and the cold began to pour through his chest, filtering out to the rest of his limbs. In less than a few minutes the albino was shivering uncontrollably against the metal table, his cheeks turning into a vivid pink as he felt his mind shift and sway into an altered consciousness.

\----

Gilbert was delirious as he laid down numb on the metal table. His body felt stiflingly hot, yet cold at the same time. Time had become thin in Gilbert's mind as his eyes were drawn to the second man he had come to meet within this hell of a nightmare. The serum pumped into him left Gilbert completely feverish, feeling sick throughout day and night, immense headaches, his lungs struggled to breathe in the oxygen it craved for as if a tight constricting band was around his chest.

Toris was in the lab, quiet and subdued and neither said a word for the past few minutes as he cleaned up the piss, wiping down the table and the floor, using another towel to wipe along his body. Gilbert was grateful to finally get the piss off him but was too sick and out of it to say thank you.

"Urh, hey… What’s... Your name?"

Toris looked up from his cleaning, as he was often met with either silence or writing notes during the long evenings, a conversation with the prisoner was a welcome distraction. It was the patient's second night being here and although Toris still felt incredibly bitter about being caught before and punished for it, he knew he couldn't cling onto that knowing how unpredictable Ivan was, what kind of a man he was. If he even was a man at all. Toris put down the towel and adjusted the swivel seat so they could sit at eye level.

"My name is Toris."

"Toris… huh… Cool name…"

Toris' heart fluttered at the compliment, but it didn't sway the bitter taste in his mouth towards the albino.

A cough suddenly overcame Gilbert, his whole body sent into a fit of shivers as he whined with discomfort.

"I seriously... Shouldn't be here, man… You know -" Gilbert paused to wheeze before continuing. "I had a cool lil' bro, had… Major crush on this super sexy chick… My life was good…" Gilbert wasn't focusing on anything in particular as he tried to give his starved lungs oxygen.

Toris sat in silence and respectfully listened to Gilbert's story.

"Ma and Pa… They died suddenly in a car crash.." Gilbert wasn't too sure why he was dedicated to confessing his entire life to a stranger, but he felt like death. Gilbert wanted to be remembered even if he wasn't ready for it. Yet right now, there were powers even beyond Gilbert's control.

"I… I was left with no family, but I found out… I had… A half little brother, shit happens… And I have a family again…" Gilbert wheezed, his chest squeezing him in a vice-like grip.

"I-I-I was bullied a lot, for how I looked, but tha-that didn't make me see people any different even if they treated me like d-dirt. Always around the corner, I had someone to comfort me, my brother… And it was worth it, I felt… Validated, me helping those who needed it more than me…” Gilbert sighed, suddenly feeling a lot older than he was. "My kindness has gotten me in such a predicament, yet I still try to find the good in people."

"You're not going to find that in here, I can assure you," Toris stated as a matter of factly, expression deadpan and melancholy.

Gilbert chuckled bitterly. "I had a feeling, I can't… Get over what he did to me… What he made me … I… feel so disgusted with myself, shameful… My body enjoyed that despite my mind not agreeing…"

"Ivan, he… tends to do that..."

"Ivan..? That's his name...?"

“Yes. As one prisoner to another, I’ll give you some helpful advice. Just do what he says, go along with it, otherwise, you’ll regret it the moment you ever thought about retaliating against him,” Toris stated, brushing some loose hair behind his ear.

“How can… you be a prisoner, when you're a doctor?” Gilbert turned his head to try and meet Toris’ eye.

“I’m a doctor, yes, but I’m not here for free will. We - there are others, maybe you might meet them one day, Feliks is a Polish man, an average civilian and Ravis is Latvian, who also had unfortunate timing since he was just visiting the lab the day we were taken by the Nazis,” Toris told the story as if he was buying a glass of milk, nothing unusual at all.

“Although the Nazis are malicious and big-headed, some of them are more honorable and prefer the swift deaths of those less than them, a waste of space. Ivan; he’s truly one of a kind.” Toris hadn’t even planned to spill his entire past to the albino man, but perhaps because they were both exposing their vulnerabilities and trauma they opened up to one another, trying to find comfort in each other's stories.

“We didn’t know how unhinged Ivan was until we started to stand up for ourselves when we were left in here to our devices, no matter what corner you turned, there’d always be a soldier at the corner, or waiting outside; this lab isn’t exactly very secure, but it was enough to remind you if you did anything stupid you’d be put down on the spot with a gun between your eyes.”

Gilbert laid on the metal table as he listened to Toris, his hands and feet feeling incredibly cold. “So…. Ivan, he’s… done things to you too..?”

“Yes, but never the scientific experiments that he’s going to be putting you through. He always sees everything through a glass, always one step ahead. He’s raped us all, made us do awful things for his sick amusement - you just, don't know what or who you're dealing with Gilbert, if you want to survive this place, just do what he says.” Toris hadn’t realized how desperate he had sounded, since… When did he start to care for Gilbert, about the albino man who’s destined to die? They were strangers, he was a pig ready to be put out for slaughter. 

Perhaps because deep down, Toris needed to find a connection; every day was the same, there was no meaning in life apart from to keep on living and breathing for the sake of surviving… And to have someone else to accompany him didn’t make the idea sound so bad anymore. Toris barely ever saw Feilks, for he worked at the front of the desk, while Ravis tended to the back, organizing the medicine or even going as far as amusing the soldiers, however, Toris had only thankfully walked upon a situation like that only once. Toris considered himself rather lucky.

Lucky enough to have not experienced any sexual encounters with the Nazi soldiers, that is - for he was Ivan’s favorite personal toy. A cockwarmer, he’d been called. They wouldn’t be wrong... But since Gilbert, besides the first punishment he'd endured, Ivan hadn’t bothered with the Lithuanian at all and it was… relieving. In some strange way, Toris felt thankful for Gilbert to take this heavy duty he bore; a selfish emotion for sure, but now… Ivan wouldn’t pay as much attention, wouldn’t rape him as often - wouldn’t… It could only be wishful thinking.

“D-Danke, Toris, I wish we could have met under better c… circumstances, ye know? You - seem, super chill -- My brother --He’s been brainwashed, gullible motherfucker; I wouldn’t -”

Gilbert choked on another spurt of coughing.

“Be in here if it wa-wasn’t for him. M-maybe I deserve it though, for fucking with L-Ludwig… I asked him to kiss me, y’know? Because… I had this super hot crush on this girl, I was scared about her rejecting me because she was the only girl, friend, thing I’ve ever had -- hehe.” Gilbert strained with a burst of pitiful laughter, groaning as he wished he hadn’t. “Don’t get me wrong, it was wrong; I regret it every day - b-but… Ludwig, when he turned against me behind my b-back and joined the… Party… He kissed me, pinned me to the wall, and was… Saying crazy shit, man…” As Gilbert remembered the foggy night he felt his stomach turn upside down from the sight of his brother in a Nazi uniform.

“I don’t get ‘em, I thought I did -- but I’ve never felt so -- _alone,"_ Gilbert heard his voice strain.

“And here I am, Ludwig’s probably out there killing innocent people, is he… even aware of that? Hitler is all bullshit, I can’t forgive him. Not--” _cough_ “Maybe for this, perhaps; I could be justified in wanting to kiss my brother, although there… were no feelings meant behind it, but kissing a brother nonetheless… Uuuggggghhhhhhh…”

Gilbert felt the acid bubble rise from his belly as he started dry heaving, throwing up over his chest. Toris was prompt about the cleanup, rinsing sponge with cold water in a bucket to clean Gilbert’s muscled chest, the night ending with silence embracing the two prisoners until the morning sun rose.

Gilbert managed to survive a second night. It was only a matter of time.

Ivan came on that third morning to start his usual routine. He took Gilbert’s temperature, blood pressure, a blood sample - checked his reflexes, his pupil response, an assortment of other measurements to help him figure out how the serum was impacting his body.

“Hey, man…. Can, I.. seriously use the bathroom?” Gilbert asked, eyelashes fluttering rapidly as he tried to focus on Ivan.

Ivan sighed deeply, pausing what he was doing to set his tools down.

“My, my, the little puppy still hasn’t learned. Such disrespect. Do I have to spell it out for you, again?” Ivan asked evenly, placing his palm over Gilbert’s bladder. A silent threat. “There’s an easier way to do it. You know how to ask correctly.”

Gilbert’s eyes widened like thin pin needles as he felt Ivan’s palm on his belly, the painful reminding sensation of that thin rod entering inside his cock, tensing visibly as he forced himself to say the words Ivan wanted him to hear; remember, Toris’ words from last night….

”Please, D-daddy, let me use the bathroom so-so... I don’t p-piss myself... Please…” Saying it the second time didn’t make things any easier for Gilbert, it felt just as humiliating as it had when it was forced.

Ivan hummed, enjoying the way he tensed in automatic fear, the words coming out of him quickly and breathless. The transparency was enough for Ivan to let the omission of the title “dog” slide. He could ease him into it.

“That’s right, you’re such a good boy for asking me nicely. Now I can be nice to you too…” Ivan said, pulling the bedpan from the cabinet. He turned back and gripped Gilbert’s limp cock, lifted it to lay over the lip of the metal bowl, and held the basin level between his legs.

“Alright, pee for Daddy now.” Ivan murmured, smiling evilly.

The awkwardness of the situation overrode the need to release his bladder - all Gilbert had to do was spare one look into Ivan’s dark purple hues before he felt a warm trickling sensation flood through his cock - Gilbert was finally able to relieve himself, releasing a satisfied sigh as he closed his eyes.

“Good boy, that’s right, just let it all out. I’ve got you,” Ivan murmured encouragingly, though his eyes were narrowed, drinking in Gilbert’s humiliation as if it were a fine wine. The blush, the lack of agency, the forced obedience, it all made him tingle happily. He was going to be so fun to break down…

Once he finished Ivan took his dick up again and gave it a shake, expelling the last of the drops. He removed the bowl and dumped it in the sink, setting the bowl in after it, Toris would come through later and clean everything.

Ivan busied himself with preparing the third set of infusions, triple the dose from the first round. As long as Gilbert remained conscious he would keep it up until he found the line where he slipped into a coma. But Ivan already had a feeling this would be the one to do it. Then, he could let Gilbert recover, reward him for being a good guinea pig. But, he wouldn’t know for certain until he did it, it was science after all.

Gilbert observed Ivan as he filled up the syringes.

“Urh, what’s that?” Then it clicked, it was slow, but Gilbert recognized the dull orange liquid, suddenly feeling looming dread.

“It’s round three. You’re doing so well, my little guinea pig. You might even live long enough for me to call you by your name,” Ivan replied, “I knew you would be the one to do it…”

“Y-you can’t do that- please, that thing made me feel like absolute shit - please, I’m begging you, I don’t want to go through that again!”

“Oh, but it’s your job. I know there are things we all don’t like about working, but it’s something you have to do anyway. Understand?” Ivan explained it to him like he was a small child not wanting to go to school.

Gilbert felt belittled as he squeezed his hands into a tight ball, absolutely despising the way Ivan spoke to him, but he had to bite his tongue down, accept it, just, accept it. It was a difficult concept for Gilbert to swallow, for he was always and forevermore a fighter. Gilbert loosened up and turned his head away from Ivan, waiting for the serum to be injected already. He’d live through this, he could do this; he would prove Ivan wrong. Gilbert just wasn’t some guinea pig but something more.

“You gonna just stand there and gawp at me? Just stick it in already and get it over with.”

Ivan’s eyebrows raised at that. He was so amusing, far feistier than the others.

“You want me to stick it in? So needy. Alright, I suppose I can oblige you since you asked.” Ivan rummaged in the cabinet again, pulling things out. He turned and gripped the small rubber ball still nestled inside Gilbert’s ass, forgotten in light of the much worse serum sickness he endured. Ivan would give him something to feel this time.

He lifted Gilbert’s hips, reached between his legs, and yanked out the plug quickly, feeling the flinch of it leaving his body. He moved a larger one in its place instead with a fresh coating of lube and Ivan pressed it in slowly, running it in and out on its widest part a few times before finally letting it pop inside and settle into place.

“There, how’s that? A bit better for you? More to chew on this time around…" Ivan chuckled, already attaching the IV and letting the infusion take off.

Gilbert had grown so accustomed to the plug inside of him he had almost forgotten it was there, groaning with discomfort as Ivan removed it with one swift movement as he maneuvered his hips in the air, a gasp falling past his lips like he had been doused with shockingly cold water, his toes curling as he felt a plug, bigger than the other squeeze past his puckered hole and stretch him wider as Gilbert bucked his hips with pain, tears pooling within the corners of his eyes. This - this-- this wasn’t what he had meant!

“Ow, ow, fuuuuuuucccck….!” Gilbert moaned, again more in pain than anything as his eyes fluttered up towards the metal stand holding the orange liquid that made him feel incredibly ill.

The fluid flowed mercilessly down into his vein and Ivan smiled at the way Gilbert’s face fell, clearly despairing what was about to come. It felt like home to Ivan, that expression. He sighed happily and pet Gilbert’s head.

“It’s okay, I’ll stay with you this time.” Ivan stroked his hair.

As Gilbert drifted into a toxin-induced coma, all he could see was Ivan, hovering close watching him. Those pulsating purple eyes boring into his very soul.

\----

Ludwig strode confidently into the facility two days later. He was in good spirits, he had excelled at training and was respected by his fellow soldiers. The higher-ranking officers looked him over with a promising glance and he’d even gotten a compliment from one. “Now that's an ideal Aryan!” He’d said, pointing at Ludwig as he’d jogged by. He was fitting right in and it felt good to have the structure, the discipline, and to get the direct results of that.

He hoped Gilbert had made similar progress and he couldn’t wait to see his brother and tell him about everything. Surely, now that he was receiving treatment he could see the benefits of the Nazis. He hoped he had calmed down and would be willing to talk, he had so much to tell him. Ludwig approached the receptionist’s desk to tell them he’d arrived. He was expected so the blond man who was acting as the secretary didn’t even look up from his paper and pointed carelessly toward the doors behind him.

“He’s in there, like, expecting you.”

Ludwig nodded and strode back into the lab, entering the first examination room on the left.

Gilbert was laid on a clean metal table, a small pair of grey-blue shorts the only article of clothing on him, he was asleep, a sheen of fever over his face, trembles, and shivers racing through his limbs. He was surprised to see the condition of him, the fact that he wasn’t his usual lively talkative self was sobering.

“Ludwig, is it not? Please, take a seat next to your brother.”

Ludwig obeyed, noticed that his title had been dropped, but let it slide. His eyes were drawn to Gilbert’s laid out body coated with sweat, cheeks flushed a deep red. Ludwig leaned over and pressed the palm of his hand against Gilbert’s forehead, briefly brushing his bangs out of the way.

Ludwig turned back to Ivan, despite keeping his features emotionless, his eyes said otherwise.

“Doctor, what is this? He’s sick.”

“Mm, do not worry. It’s a part of the process. He will heal and be cured. It’s a part of the treatment he’s currently going through. Just an adverse reaction his body will overcome; I’m monitoring him so everything is fine.” Ivan turned his back to Ludwig, unable to conceal his sharp grin. “Anyway, there isn't much left for me to say. His treatment is just getting started. I’ll let you two have a moment.” With that Ivan left the room, giving the two men privacy.

Ludwig was relieved to finally have time alone with Gilbert. He was worried about the doctor he’d left him in the care of. He knew the Nazis were the only ones willing to find a cure, but that didn’t make him trust the tall Russian doctor one bit. He half wished Gilbert was awake so they could talk, so he could confirm his condition for himself, but the more selfish beastly half of him was excited that his brother happened to be asleep during his visit.

“I’ve missed you Gilbert, the house is much quieter without you home. I can’t wait until we can be there together again when you’re cured. Then… We can be happy together.” Ludwig sat next to the table and traced the lines of Gilbert’s face, tracing his outlines and letting his fingers smudge over his lips.

Ludwig glanced around and made sure he was alone and leaned over to plant a kiss on Gilbert’s sleeping lips. He stayed longer than necessary, working his mouth against unresponsive lips, tongue pressing inside just to feel his heat, taste him even if he wouldn’t remember. He was warm and clammy but Ludwig still felt as if he’d won something.

Ivan stood silent in the hallway and peered into the lab, a sharp-edged smile as he licked his lips. More interested than disgusted, Ivan reappeared from the shadows twirling a pen between his fingertips, his heels loud against the tiled floor. It was amusing to watch Ludwig snap into a ruler, his eye’s visibly distraught with concern with being caught.

“Oh, my; how incestuous… I never would have thought you would be a homosexual, Ludwig. Considering how the Nazi regime treats people like… you,” Ivan stood in the doorway blocking them in completely.

Anger and fear bubbled in Ludwig’s chest at being caught red-handed, the chair flying back as he stood and punched the metal bed with his fist. Gilbert woke up with a start, a yelp leaving his lips as he saw Ludwig hovering above him, looking away with stern blue eyes as he glared at the Russian man.

"H-huh?? Luddy? Was… Goin' on…?"

"You will forget what you saw. If I hear a word from you, you’ll be sent to the camps. There's always room for one more."

"Oh? Why don't we go together? I'm sure there's room for three more. Always plenty of room for people like us." Ivan's lip curled into a grin as he casually walked over to Gilbert on the other side.

"Us?" Ludwig raised a sharp brow.

"The fuck is going on?! Lud--"

"We could make a deal, of sorts,” Ivan hummed, completely ignoring Ludwig’s question. Ivan grabbed Gilbert by the sharp of his chin and forced the two brothers to directly look at each other.

“I’ll use your brother for a personal project…. and in return, I will keep my word about your incestuous relationship a secret."

“Incestuous... relationship- What the hell is going on?” Gilbert moaned in confusion, he felt so ill, he didn’t want to deal with this right now.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you right here, right now,” Ludwig growled, fists clenched at his sides, eyeing Ivan’s neck, if he could strangle him from here, who would ever know?

Ivan however jerked a thumb back at one of the security cameras in the corner and Ludwig’s heart dropped.

“See those?” Ivan smirked.

Ludwig felt the fear overtake the rage for a moment, racing to think his way out of the trap.

"They wouldn't even bother to check those, too much time on their hands," Ludwig said, staring at Ivan’s hands.

“I can send it to them directly,” Ivan smiled, letting Gilbert’s chin go so he could trace down his neck.

"People die every day. What would it matter to them if a Russian scum like you died after threatening me? You hold no value, you’re nothing." Ludwig could feel his hackles rising as he watched Ivan idly touching his brother.

“Oh, but Ludwig… If you killed me, who would cure your brother? I’m the only one with the expertise his case requires. I’m the only one who can truly help him,” Ivan said rubbing circles in Gilbert’s shoulder, across his collarbone. “Do you want him to be put on a cull list?”

"Don't think you can play around with me, Ivan. I am superior to you," Ludwig raised his voice, hoping to intimidate him but could feel the power shifting out of his favor with every second.

"Oh, I'm so scared," Ivan giggled, hand still touching before sliding his open palm down Gilbert’s pectoral, gripping it hard and catching a nipple between his fingers.

"Hello?! OWW--" Gilbert didn’t like being ignored, that was until Ivan grabbed him so roughly like that, still fearful from last night.

"You will unhand him, immediately!" Ludwig said, fists clenched and trembling.

Ivan fluttered his eyes, smiled; was downright beaming at Ludwig.

"Or what?"

Ludwig was about to respond - he had no idea what - but was stopped by the same distracted secretary from before as he opened the door without knocking.

“Hey, your meeting with the higher-ups has been rescheduled to today - I’m sorry, but they like, _just_ told… me… Oh. My bad.”

Ivan sighed and looked at the flustered Feliks. He had told him to knock first so many times, he would have to be corrected again after this. Still, his mistake was good timing. He knew Ludwig heard about the meeting, what that meant about the importance of his work, and his importance, even as a prisoner himself. He turned back to the Nazi glowering at him.

“As you can see, Ludwig, my work calls. I’ll keep your impropriety quiet and you will allow me to do my work in peace. Your brother will be cured and he’ll be safe. Isn’t that what you want?"

Ludwig knew he was being played, knew he was being taunted, and talked down to but Ivan also had more than one kind of leverage over him. He was just too low ranking still and Ivan knew it. He’d let him cure Gilbert, then take him back by force if he had to.

He gave a tight nod and turned away before he could change his mind, pushing past the short secretary in the doorway.

"I was about to take my leave anyway," Ludwig ground out.

"Until next time, Ludwig."

Gilbert felt the panic take him again. He didn’t want to stay there any longer! His cock still ached from yesterday's treatment, the slither of the hole sensitive, even now his ass still had something shoved up it, and Ludwig was just walking away….

“Ludwig?! Please don’t leave me here! I hate it! I feel like shit, he makes me feel like shit -- you gotta get me out of here!”

“Sorry Gilbert, I’ll come to visit you more often,” Ludwig ground out, hating to leave him but not making eye contact.

Ivan smirked and waved goodbye at Ludwig as if to say, time to go. With a final growl, he did just that.

Gilbert felt a rising rush of sadness as Ludwig left him again -- maybe he should have told him that Ivan shoved a metal spike up his dick? Did he seriously just hear correctly that Ivan knew more about the kiss? There was no relationship -- it was a mistake!

“Your brother seems to care an awful lot about you…”

“W-what did he do?” Gilbert stuttered, already on autopilot - Gilbert had already confessed about kissing his brother -- but he was more lucid, somewhat. He wasn’t going through the traumatic pain again if he could help it.

“It’s less about what he said and more about what he did. He kissed you, you know,” Ivan murmured.

“Scheisse, Ludwig! Bitte, doc -- My brother… He’s young, downright stupid and naive... I lead him on when I shouldn’t have - look, c-can you please keep this as a secret? I’ll do whatever you want.” Gilbert strained, beads of cold sweat rolling down his forehead. “I-I’ll do anything, b-bitte..” What extreme pain could Gilbert experience after the first night?

“Anything?” Ivan asked, his violet eyes glimmering.

“Ja, anything! Just so long you keep your word and forget what Ludwig just did. I’ll take full responsibility for my actions - just - no more, metal stick, b-bitte.” There could have been nothing worse than a thin metal rod getting shoved in your dick. Gilbert would happily undergo something other than the horrible metal rod any day.

Ivan smiled, deeply pleased.

“If you're willing to cooperate, I will keep my word and won’t turn him over to the Nazis.”

Gilbert closed his eyes, head rolling to one side as he pressed his cheek against the cold metal, sighing as it somewhat cooled his raging fever. Gilbert still couldn’t fully trust Ivan, even if he was a doctor.

“I’ve never been this damn fuckin’ ill in a long time...” Gilbert groaned.

“Tell me more about that. Did you used to get sick often?”

“Eh? As a kid, I used to get sick all the time, but I suppose as I have grown more my body became adjusted to the viruses and diseases out there, scary shit.”

Ivan hummed and jotted a few notes down on his ever-present chart.

“How did you grow up? Were you close to your brother?”

“Why ask about that?”

“Well, unnatural feelings such as those your brother displays may be genetic, may be based on childhood trauma, or something else entirely. I’m a doctor, a scientist, it’s a curious thing to study. How did you end up kissing him in the first place? Tell me everything leading up to that,” Ivan commanded, sitting in the same chair Ludwig had been in.

Gilbert sighed, he knew the questions would come sooner or later; but in this case, he had no choice but to speak.

“So, I was in love with this girl and I can only really trust Ludwig, so -- after drinking out with some friends one night I asked him… If... I could practice kissing him.” Gilbert felt his cheeks burn up, be it from the fever or the fact he was reliving that awful night when everything changed.

Ivan was silent, looking at him as if to say, go on.

“I-I didn’t mean to let it go so far, honest - I started to get really into imagining it with this girl, but I felt him go hard and then I pulled away; because fuck, I just fucking kissed my brother, it’s weird right?” Gilbert groaned, smacking the back of his head to the table. “I regretted it as soon as I realized, maybe that’s why Ludwig put me here - but why would he visit? Why would he - kiss me? It doesn’t make any sense,” Gilbert was speaking his thoughts out loud at this point. After Ludwig left him, he had been in a haze; unable to think straight, even now, this was the first proper time Ivan and Gilbert conversed between one another other than stubborn silence or through pained tears.

“You’re right, it doesn’t make sense. That’s why I have to keep you away from him.”

"Even if I’m forced to stay here - Ludwig will find a way to visit me whether you like it or not,” Gilbert said, anxiety coursing through him at the thought of staying in this mad lab indefinitely.

Ivan’s smile stretched a mite wider, leaned over the table so he loomed over his subject. He placed both palms on the edge of the table on either side of him and hovered only a few inches from Gilbert’s face.

“We’ll see about that, won’t we?”

Ivan made sure he couldn’t see the scalpel hidden in his sleeve, let it slide out as he caught it in his palm and moved it to the freshly tattooed arm.

“Such a shame I had to mar your lovely skin. Still, it was necessary. He can’t find you again if you don’t exist in the system.” Ivan pressed the keen cutting edge against the letters still raw with ink.

“Hold still, you won’t feel a thing,” Ivan lied as he gripped his arm tightly and without any other warning pressed the blade deep, yet controlled, only dipping far enough to remove the subcutaneous layer. It bled quickly, dramatically, as he worked, but he knew what he was doing and ignored the way Gilbert reacted.

Gilbert felt pain burst through his arm as the man loomed above him, it was like seeing him for the first time - his smile sent shivers down Gilbert's spine, stomach coiling and body jerking violently at the electrifying and sudden pain he felt the sharp object penetrate his skin, feeling blood swell and bubble up as he tried to calm his racing heart, wincing loudly as he tried to process what the man was saying to him.

"S-system? What system is there to genocide and mass m-murder?" Gilbert ground his teeth, couldn't help but tense up - it was difficult to ignore his near nakedness, how the man was looming above him in a predatory manner. Gilbert watched Ivan’s concentrated expression, wanting to smash the damn bastard’s large nose. However, the albino remained immobile, the doctor had the upper hand right now and Gilbert was trying hard to think of a strategy, something to distract his mind from the burning pain.

Ivan smiled. Such a naive question.

“It’s a system that works. That’s all. And if it can bring me special little boys like yourself, then it must be a good thing after all,” Ivan said dreamily, almost as if speaking to himself.

When he’d been kidnapped from his lab in Russia he’d easily gone along with it, unconcerned by the Nazis and their rhetoric. He smiled in the face of their guns and shouting orders when they unexpectedly burst into their facility, held his wrists out to be shackled, excited as a child extending their hand to go on a school trip. His lab assistants, researchers all from neighboring countries, had been scooped up at the same time and they’d had no composure whatsoever.

They had been terrified, Feliks and Toris yelling and crying, Eduard tried to jump from the third story window but didn’t make it on the bushes. He’d landed with a wet crunch on the flagstones, paralyzed, bleeding, legs broken as a horrifying wail kept ringing from his chest. Ravis just trembled the whole time and pissed himself as the burlap bag was drawn over his head.

But Ivan knew they were being taken to some utopia, somewhere he could learn and experiment and expand human understanding without needing to go through an internal review board, without sparing concern for human rights. Rats and chimps could only go so far, Ivan knew the Germans had the right idea, had simply followed scientific progress to its logical conclusion.

Now, finally, after waiting patiently, he was being rewarded. Ivan dipped the scalpel a final time, cleanly separating the top flap of skin from Gilbert’s arm, leaving a long deep red divot where it had been. He could see the musculature beneath, had been careful not to cut into it but could admire it now through this little window he’d cut open on his body. The bloodied strip of flesh in his gloved fingers was dropped into a glass vial with a formaldehyde preservative, the blue numbers turning green and amber, and floating disembodied in the liquid. Ivan hummed and swirled it thoughtfully, watching the blood dilute into chemical.

Gilbert inhaled sharply, his eyes practically watering - he couldn’t see what the man was doing, but it was perhaps for the best - all he could do was feel the keen cut, a soft cry falling past his lips as he felt his skin peel, his toes curling in discomfort as he watched Ivan lean back, something flaccid and limp in his gloved hands as he put it in a flask - nose itching at the sudden smell of burning, melting flesh - his flesh… Was that-?

"You sick motherfucker! Why are you doing this?" Gilbert cursed, thrashing around against his bonds now that the life-threatening weapon was away from him. His arm stung and hurt like hell.

Ivan looked back at the angry yelling boy, how animated he was. It made the blood drip and smear down his arm and Ivan caught himself staring at the different patterns leaking from him.

“Because, now, you’re mine,” Ivan said simply.

“W-what?” Gilbert struggled to comprehend what the mad man was trying to say. The albino stared up at Ivan as if he had two heads. “Yours? I don’t belong to anyone, I’m a free man!”

“Without this number-” Ivan held the vial closer so he could see it, numbered flesh bobbing and spinning - “You don’t exist. You’re already dead. Just another subject for me.” Ivan paused, looked up, and scratched his chin. “Gilbert the guinea pig. Yeah, that has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it? We’re going to be very close, you and I. Together we’re going to unlock all the secrets hidden in your body.”

Gilbert's eyes went cross-eyed as Ivan brought up the vial, his body thrumming and shaking with disgust.

“I'm no guinea pig! I’m a human - and I have my rights! What you're doing to me is unforgivable, even if I’ve handed myself over for my brother’s mistake!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make it fun, da?” Ivan turned to leave, taking the vial with him. He had some paperwork to forge before he could play with his new toy.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Narroch - Sorry it’s a few days late. It’s my fault because I’m moving yet again. Straight up manic nomadic over here. Make sure you check the tags, we’re adding them as we go.

Roderich and Elizaveta never knew exactly what happened to Gilbert. After spending the day together, working through their issues, and pouring their hearts out to each other, Elizaveta had waved Gilbert off to go home in the dark late that evening. She wished she had called Roderich and the three of them could have walked together because she never saw him again after that night. 

Gilbert and Ludwig were both missing from their usual gathering spot at the coffeehouse a couple of days later. She and Roderich sat sipping their cups, sharing worried glances and whispers of the changes happening. All around them people were going missing, more businesses being intentionally bankrupted. 

When they saw Ludwig walking through the street wearing a Nazi uniform they were shocked. Elizaveta felt queasy seeing him, knowing Gilbert wouldn’t stand for it, so why was he still wearing that uniform? It meant something had happened to Gilbert - Roderich stood up to confront Ludwig, but Elizaveta grabbed his arm feeling a terrible gut warning about the situation, that he was dangerous and not the same awkward shy kid they’d known in college following Gilbert around at his heel.

Roderich who still felt raw about the conflict from the other night, as well as his family’s continuing struggle, couldn’t be stopped as he wrenched his arm free and staggered outside of the coffeehouse right as Ludwig and another Nazi on patrol walked by. 

“Hey!” Roderich shouted at Ludwig’s retreating back. He turned, looked surprised, and then stern once he saw who it was. Roderich didn’t stop, walked closer even as he realized Ludwig wasn’t alone. It had gotten more dangerous but he wasn’t going to back down. 

“You’re a real piece of work, you know that, Ludwig?”

Ludwig turned and sneered but didn’t respond. The body language was clear as he held himself away from Roderich. They weren’t friends, had never been really. Both of them became entangled in each other’s lives because of Gilbert and Elizaveta, but the two of them on their own had never been close. The Nazi uniform just cemented that fact.

“Where is Gilbert?” Roderich asked, knowing Ludwig wouldn’t be baited into responding to taunts.

Ludwig turned and surveyed him with cold blue eyes, glancing at the coffeehouse door as Elizaveta also exited, grabbing Roderich by the elbow and standing close by him, glaring at Ludwig. 

“He’s somewhere safe, getting treatment for his condition,” Ludwig responded.

“His condition? Ludwig, there’s nothing wrong with Gilbert!” Elizaveta proclaimed, already she felt tears in her eyes, angry, frustrated, and helpless. Not Gilbert, please, not Gilbert…

“Who are these people, soldat?” The other Nazi asked, standing next to Ludwig in judgment eyeing the newcomers. He was shorter, wavy red hair with a particularly unruly curl flying out in front and he spoke with an Italian accent. 

“They’re no one. Just some old acquaintances,” Ludwig responded coldly. 

“Gilbert will never forgive you for this, you know that don’t you?!” Elizaveta yelled. She was beside herself, knowing it pointless to try and convince him if Gilbert hadn’t been able to, but she couldn’t stop herself. 

How could he do that to his own brother?

“I’m the only one willing to help him. You both just pitied him and kept him around to feel better about yourselves.” 

Elizaveta felt herself moving before she realized what was happening, reacting before Roderich could grab her or Ludwig could keep spouting his lies. She took three swift strides and slapped him right across the cheek with her open palm.

Ludwig took the hit and turned back to face her with a red mark on his cheek, eyes narrowed in anger. Elizaveta’s were brimmed with tears, it felt like Ludwig was reading off his brother’s death sentence. 

“You know that’s not true. Gilbert’s our friend because he’s _Gilbert_ , not because of any of the nonsense you’re saying.” Elizaveta didn’t back down, blinked rapidly to keep tears from falling. Roderich had to step forward and pull her back by the shoulder. Ludwig and the other soldier were still stunned by what had happened, no one dared strike a uniformed SS officer in broad daylight! But Ludwig didn’t seem like he was going to retaliate. He brushed his knuckles over his cheek as if to smooth away the impact and turned without looking at them. 

“Whether it’s true or not, you’re never seeing him again. And if you’re smart you won’t show up in front of me again either. Next time I’ll arrest you. Come on,” Ludwig nudged his partner to turn and walk away.

“Really? You’re gonna just let her do that to you? What the heck happened between you two?” He asked as they strode off.

“Nothing, and it’s fine. Leave them be.” Ludwig knew he couldn’t explain it fully to the other soldier, that simply banishing them from his and Gilbert’s lives was a worse punishment than sending them to a labor camp. 

Felicano eyed his new partner curiously as they continued their patrol. Ludwig was fascinating, not to mention easy on the eyes and Feli had been overjoyed when he saw who he’d been assigned to during their training. He would provide some nice brawny eye candy while on assignment at least. But now Feliciano was even more curious about what was going on inside as well. Ludwig was full of surprises. Getting slapped by a lady like that, and then just walking away stone cold like that? Feliciano for some reason found it incredibly attractive. That he could be so manly and poised about it. 

Feliciano smiled to himself, happy to match Ludwig’s steps and take note of all the details of his stride, his worried thoughtful expression, the way he worried his lower lip. Feliciano wanted to give him something else to nibble on… He had to be patient though, get past that brooding exterior first. 

“So… Was that your ex?” Feli asked innocently.

Ludwig spluttered and did a double-take which Feliciano decided was the cutest thing he’d seen him do so far. 

“Eliza? No, no, she’s just someone who used to hang around a lot. Moreso around my brother than me…”

“That’s good. I bet you must have a _ton_ of exes. A real heartbreaker, right?” Feliciano elbowed him as he said it, hoping to convey nonchalance as he dug for information. 

“Ah, well, not really. Truth be told I’ve never dated anyone.”

Feliciano felt his heart give a leap. He had to keep it cool though. 

“Really? Just never met the right girl?” 

“Besides Elizaveta, I haven’t met any girls, and I don’t intend to,” Ludwig said matter of factly, nothing sad about it, just a simple statement. Feliciano felt like he might start dancing in the street. Ludwig was practically admitting that he wasn’t interested in women, which only meant one thing. Feliciano started to hum happily as they walked, Ludwig gave him a perplexed side-eye glance but didn’t ask about his suddenly joyous mood. 

Feliciano couldn’t wait to flirt his way into his heart and his bed. Joining up with the army had been the best decision of his life!

\----

Ivan kept Gilbert's strict routine over the next few weeks. Test a serum, increase the dosage until adverse effects took hold, let him recover before starting the process all over again. Along with the wide variety of compounds he wanted to test, he was training him in other aspects as well. Asking to use the bathroom, asking for IV fluids when thirsty, responding to the various pet names Ivan gave him, and calling him Daddy. It was all very pleasing. 

Even when his mind collapsed under the weight of the drugs and he slipped into a medically induced coma, Ivan made sure to keep up with Gilbert's training. Every day Ivan stretched and worked Gilbert’s ass, inserting larger and larger toys as he was able to take them. Keeping a close eye on the albino with an IV liquid diet made everything easier and cleaner and soon Ivan could see the fruits of his careful labors when even as he lay there unconscious, Gilbert began to get an erection during his twice-daily stretching sessions. Ivan never touched him there, never got him off even once during the entire coma, despite how tempting it was. By the end of each session, Gilbert’s member was left rigid and dripping pre-cum onto his belly as he rammed an even bigger dildo into place for the night.

The first time Gilbert awoke from a coma he wept in gratitude seeing Ivan there waiting for him, comforting him as his consciousness slowly crept back into reality... Or was it fear? A mixture of both perhaps. 

“Good job surviving that round, I think you’ve earned your name. Gilbert. How does that feel?” Ivan said, smoothing a hand over his sweaty forehead. 

“T-thank you, Daddy...” Gilbert whispered, he still didn’t feel completely one hundred percent - like he wasn’t even in his body. It was a difficult process filtering through the strange serums that Ivan put inside him. Above all he’d learned just how vulnerable he truly was - there was never a moment to rest, never time to heal between each set. 

Gilbert was unsure how long it had been since he’d last seen Ludwig, heard another voice apart from Ivan or occasionally Toris… The lines were blurring and blending into one another between reality and this strange laboratory specimen life. 

“Good boy, I’m proud of you. Now Gilbert, I need you to focus. Do you feel this?”

Ivan’s hand trailed down and traced the edge of the dildo lodged in his ass. Gave it a light tap.

“Urh… no?” Gilbert spoke with concern, what was he supposed to feel?

“What about when I do this?” Ivan asked, smiling as he gripped the base and pulled it out, jostling it back and forth inside Gilbert. He tilted it, dragged it roughly over the prostate, and carefully watched Gilbert’s face as he cracked open. 

Gilbert tensed, but it wasn’t for the pain he experienced; much rather the opposite. 

What the fuck was inside of him?

Gilbert’s face twisted like a broken mirror, his mouth open as his toes curled with a wet gasp.

“W-what the fuck!?” 

Ivan smiled and drank in the reaction, the fear and confusion as his body reacted to his vigorous training. He knew he had it in him, being his perfect cock slut. Ivan just had to give him nudges in the right direction. 

“Do you like that Gilbert? You’re taking it so well, your body doesn’t even resist anymore, look-” Ivan swept his hand down to gesture to Gilbert’s cock which was already rising valiantly under the stimulation. Ivan started pulling the dildo further and further out, letting it rush back in to sink deep as he fucked Gilbert with the toy. He’d waited so long, he was so close, he was determined to get Gilbert to cum on his dick without touching him. He’d been holding back the entire month and now it was time to show Gilbert what that kind of patience and preparation meant. How intense he could make it. 

“O-oh, oh fuck!” Gilbert’s body reacted violently to the surge of pleasure, so much so he could see stars even with his eyes wide open. It was a burst of energy, his body reacting automatically and he could feel his entirety go into overdrive with stimulation. He felt hot, yet not the sick kind; it was sweetness and sparks and pounding sensation as the thing inside of him hammered away. Gilbert felt breathless, dizzy, and intoxicated with lust as he felt his hips thrust in the air, his rigid dick bouncing with the movement. 

Gilbert couldn’t even think, couldn’t imagine why this was happening, what Ivan had done to him, how long he was out for - what was this intense feeling? Why was Ivan sticking something up his ass?! Gilbert didn’t know, couldn’t fathom why or even the interest in it - it’s where people did their business, but... Why…? Why did it feel so good? Since when had his ass become a sexual organ? Gilbert was torn with shame, his chest dusted with a deep shade of pink as his own body became a stranger to him.

“That’s right, Gilbert, you were made for this, this is all you’re good for. Your body was made to give pleasure and take dick. Are you ready?” Ivan asked, taunting Gilbert, smiling eerily as he watched him struggle against the forced arousal, the way his body reacted as if it wasn’t even his. Ivan slowed his pace, the dildo made a wet noise as he pressed it slowly in and out, and he grinned when he saw the way Gilbert’s hips shifted, trying to keep up the pace and the stimulation.

Gilbert balled his hands into fists, knuckles turning white as Ivan went at a torturing slow movement, a deep itch within him that couldn’t be satisfied. Gilbert groaned with frustration. 

“Give it to me!” Gilbert yelled hoarsely.

Give what to him!? What did Ivan mean his body was made to give pleasure and take dick? He wasn’t--

“Ah, ah, ah… You have to earn it. Just like everything else. Beg me for it Gilbert, beg your Daddy to give it to you,” Ivan said cruelly, pulling the dildo out completely leaving Gilbert empty and bereft of any touch whatsoever.

“B-bitte, give it to me, bitte!” Gilbert’s cheeks turned a deep shade of red, for he wasn’t even completely sure what he was begging for. He could feel tears gathering, it was just too much...

Ivan had been waiting for the submission, for the begging, and he gave a long satisfied groan when he finally unclipped Gilbert’s ankles and dragged his ass right to the edge of the table, spearing his huge dick inside all at once. And just like that, in one violent motion, Gilbert’s virginity finally and truly gone. Ivan shuddered and began rocking his hips, slamming Gilbert across the top of the table, sliding into his tight wet heat, squeezing and accommodating every thick inch of him. 

Gilbert's eyes went wide as the word slid upside down, he was momentarily free but was left breathless at the impact over the table, his chest heaving as he felt something bigger fill him up, it was warm, twitching, and hard - the sensation was lovely, how the cockhead slipped past the rim of his hole to dive back in… Gilbert groaned, grasping for empty nothings as he tried to brace himself.

Somehow, Gilbert fucking loved it, as confusing as it was; it was undeniably good, even if he didn’t want it. 

“F---fuck, yes, yes, Ivan!” Gilbert had never heard his voice sound so desperate, so on edge and pleading begging for release, precum beading and pooling out of his slit as he was pounded into, he couldn’t even think; only feel. 

“Bitte, t-touch me!” Gilbert gasped.

Ivan growled possessively and rammed even harder into Gilbert, stared into his crimson eyes on the verge of crying, so very close… 

“No, you can only cum from my cock, understand? This is all you’re gonna get,” Ivan hissed harshly, gripping Gilbert’s legs so they were held together, leaning him forward so Gilbert was bent in half, cock trapped between his thighs and his belly as Ivan continued to slide wetly in and out of his hole. 

Ivan’s dick continued to drill into him like a piston, Gilbert felt his eyes rolling at the back of his skull as his body tried to keep up with the brutal experience. He sobbed, the feeling intense and overwhelming as his body tensed, before he even knew what was happening Gilbert was spurting thick, wet threads of cum that he felt land on his chest, even some on his face.

Gilbert groaned, exhausted; yet Ivan still wasn’t finished. 

Gilbert could feel his cock going soft and flaccid, on the verge of being brought back to life as he dry heaved, Ivan’s thick rod becoming a dulled pain in his ass. 

Ivan didn’t hold back and breathed heavily over Gilbert as he felt him cum, drinking in the sight of his face flushed with unwanted pleasure, the way he clenched around him so tightly. It only took a few more deep strokes, as well as the trembling from Gilbert as he cried and retched, for Ivan to find his own peak. He gasped and gripped Gilbert hard enough to bruise and shot his load deep inside the albino’s body, claiming him finally and irrevocably. 

Ivan caught his breath, listened happily to Gilbert’s sniffling, and slipped himself out once he finally went soft. The largest dildo was back in place in the next second, not giving Gilbert even a moment to relax from the stretch. Ivan stroked his face, watched the tears track down, wiping bile from the corners of his mouth like a caring parent rather than the one who’d caused it in the first place.

“Gilbert, my precious little guinea pig, I knew you could do it. I’m so proud of you… You’ve earned a rest,” Ivan murmured with a smile, pulling him back into the proper position and locking his ankles back into their restraints. Gilbert didn’t fight back, didn’t resist. He still seemed to be in shock. 

Ivan straightened up and brushed himself down, feeling immensely pleased with the progress they’d made. 

“Now then, Gilbert. What do you say?”

“T-thank you, Daddy…” Gilbert mumbled.

“That’s right… Good boy Gilbert,” Ivan leaned over to kiss his forehead, making a mockery of the gesture, before turning away and flicking off the lights, leaving him alone to shiver in the dark.

That night, Gilbert cried his heart out; scared, lonely, hungry, missing his friends - there were barely any tears left by the time he passed out from exhaustion, his cum still splattered on his body to remind him, the dildo still stretching him open… Gilbert sniffled, he’d made a huge mistake by accepting the terms - going through that... Ludwig, why wasn’t he here? Save me, for fuck’s sake...

Following that mind-blowing session, Gilbert was left in deep thought when he was finally alone. It was then when things were finally quiet and still that Gilbert realized he was truly hungry like nothing else he’d experienced. So much so that whenever Gilbert tried to think of food; he felt the urge to throw up, could feel his insides turn inside out - it was painful, clutching onto himself as he tried to stave off the deep hunger pangs. Nothing worked.

All Gilbert could think about was food, food, food; warm, dense bread. Fried eggs. Melt in the mouth bacon… oh gott, how GIlbert craved for something solid. What had Ivan done to him? He felt so weak, so tired, so numb, cold… Gilbert didn’t like it, not at all. He felt vulnerable and exposed, ripe for the picking.

But that’s what Ivan had just done - why the fuck did he do that to him? Gilbert knew he had given up his freedom for the sake of his brother; but what the absolute fuck had that been about?

Gilbert moaned, confused; he didn’t feel pain in his backside, shouldn’t he have? He didn’t know, pulled out of his thoughts as his stomach growled again, leaning over as much as the chains would allow to stop the intense cramping.

Sleep was not an option tonight.

This was what it felt like being empty, his mind wandered back to those old, skinny-boned men and women on the streets. Would that be Gilbert's fate? He shuddered at the unpleasant thought, curling in on himself to try and get some warmth.

He missed Ludwig, missed Roderick and sweet, caring, lovely Elizaveta... Her bright, sweet smile enlarged in his mind as he heard Roderick’s laugh. Recalling when they all drank together, it seemed so long ago now... Gilbert wondered how everyone was doing. 

Did they know he was still alive? Probably not… He hoped they still cared. 

Gilbert frowned, feeling saddened by the thought of being forgotten by not only his brother but by his closest friends. That night, alone on his slab, Gilbert felt true hunger and loneliness like no other. An ache deeper than anything physical.

\----

When Gilbert was taken away and Ludwig joined the party in one fell swoop, Roderich and Elizaveta, who were already on the edge of activism, fell completely into organizing and resisting. Through their old university, they joined the White Rose student resistance group, both of them began handing out anti-Nazi literature surreptitiously wherever they could. They had to be cautious and couldn’t do anything openly against the government but they found pockets of resistance, small coalitions of the willing who helped them spread the word, a small voice to counter the louder and louder Nazi message being drilled into everyone. Despite their resistance, it was already reaching a boiling point. 

The night of Kristallnacht - Roderick's empty music shop where he and Elizaveta had been staying and organizing out of, was suddenly raided in the middle of the night, bricks and firebombs coming through the window in the front. They were only able to escape because Roderick was paranoid and already had shields ready and an escape route out of the house planned that utilized the cellar connection to the back alley. They both grabbed their pre-packed bags and ran for their lives, the screams of their neighbors, and the sound of breaking glass echoing throughout the night. Then the burning started, fires intentionally set to Jewish businesses, synagogues, political dens. The streets were glistening with glass, the air choked with dense black smoke.

They managed to escape thanks to their preplanning and because Roderich already didn’t trust the neighbors for reporting other people to the government. Elizaveta had scoped out the abandoned building before and went to one now, finding a decent room still inside and began filling it with resistance materials and plans and regrouping their lives. They squatted in the building and hid their presence and grew increasingly radicalized by the intolerant violence and rampant hatred they faced. 

Once they were secure in their hiding place, they began doing more direct actions and joined with the Edelweiss Pirates to do _something_ to fight back against the evil changes happening in their country. They stole supplies and weapons, disrupted prison transports, but mainly they helped hide escaping families and shuttle them to the next safe house. Acting as guides for fleeing refugees.

Every day they thought of Gilbert, or Ludwig, wondering if they would ever see either of them again - one a victim to the war machine, the other now a part of it. It seemed too cruel his brother had been the one to turn him in. They often spoke to him as if he were still there, both of them knew their crusade was dedicated to him. If only he could see them now, would Gilbert be proud of them? 

\----

The next day Ivan returned to the lab and announced that he was so pleased with Gilbert’s progress and he’d learned so much that they were going to have a family dinner tonight. 

“Would you like that Gilbert? Sitting at a table with everyone? It’s been over a month since you’ve left this lab room.”

It only felt like a few hours to Gilbert when Ivan returned - had he even slept at all? He couldn’t tell, he felt physically and utterly exhausted, eyes going wide at hearing Ivan say how long he’d been in this hellhole.

“A-a month!?” Gilbert shouted, exasperated, where the fuck had all that time gone? His face shifted, lost in thought.

Ivan giggled, enjoyed the confusion, and seeing the realization on Gilbert’s face. He was stealing more than his health and sanity, he was stealing his time as well. He’d spent over a fortnight in a coma and the weight of the serums and other deprivations had left their toll on his body. Everything about him had shrunken.

“I’ll tell the others to begin preparations and in honor of your progress and so everyone knows your role, I got you something.” Ivan pulled a strip of leather from his pocket, a brass buckle on the end, and bound it around Gilbert’s neck, tightening the dog collar into place. He’d even gotten a small metal dog tag engraved with his name on it, dangling against his throat. 

Gilbert stared at Ivan as if he had two heads, eyes trying to see the metal tag - the leather felt as if it was choking him. He couldn’t believe he’d been in here for a month already, had the time gone by that fast? What had he done during that time? His stomach growled, causing Gilbert to groan with discomfort. 

“D-do I get to eat food..?” Gilbert questioned, hunching over as if to satisfy the pain somehow.

“You can come to dinner if you’re good.” Ivan raked his fingers through Gilbert’s oily unwashed hair, rubbing comforting circles against his scalp. 

“Now be quiet and wait for me to come back,” Ivan said as if Gilbert had any sort of choice about it. He turned and left to tell the others to begin their preparations. Everything had been leading up to this, training Gilbert to be more pliable and submissive, gathering the whole family together to share a meal. With him at the head of the table. The image warmed something frozen and starved in Ivan and he smiled to himself as he strode down the halls.

Toris, Feliks, and Ravis all knew something was up when Ivan popped up in each of their work areas and announced they were having “family dinner” and to begin making preparations. The two of them scurried to the lab room, working to convert it to a functional dining table while Ravis went to the kitchen to start prepping food. Feliks carried a large white sheet to use as a tablecloth, Toris shoved small desks together to form an awkwardly shaped table. As they worked, they had a rare moment to talk together without Ivan’s prying gaze. He usually kept each of them separate. Letting them work together was rare, having everyone together at once for a meal was even rarer.

Feliks was the first to break the awkward silence as they hurriedly worked. 

“So… What do you think dear ole’ dad has in store for us tonight?"

“God knows, I’d rather not think about it,” Toris mumbled, placing down the utensils around the makeshift table.

“I bet he’s gonna make us eat that scrawny prisoner he’s been so obsessed over. Probably like, baked into a pie or some shit.” 

“Ew, Feliks!” Toris shrieked, horrified by the idea - but it was very much like something Ivan would do. 

“What other fucked up thing then? You _know_ this isn’t going to be like some happy regular meal.” Feliks was clearing instruments from the room, stashing beakers and bottles, and stowing anything that made the room seem more like a lab. Ivan was so weird about family stuff, even after all the time they’d been trapped with him he had no idea why he was this way, completely unpredictable. It made the thought of dinner feel more like a looming punishment than a warm gathering. Feliks shuddered. The idea of sitting at a table with knives and other sharp items with Ivan and everyone pretending to be all fake and happy. He was good at that, faking it, but doing it with everyone present made it so much more humiliating. 

Feliks sighed and finally sat down, taking a rare break from the constant working and movement it took to survive in this lab. 

“I really don’t want to watch Ivan like, _fillet_ him in front of us…” Feliks said sadly. The pie thing had been a joke, but honestly, the threat could turn very real. He wrapped his arms around himself, rocking slightly as he thought about bodies being cut open, about the sound of organs slapping wetly to the floor… 

“Hey, hey..” Toris stopped what he was doing, stepping towards Feliks as he rocked himself on the chair, softly soothing his hair as he embraced him. “I won’t let Ivan touch you, we… we just have to be strong for each other, I don’t know if I can make it without you... I love you, Feliks; we can do this, together.”

Feliks leaned into the touch, a deep shuddery breath leaving him as he wrapped his arms around Toris as well and held him back. It felt good, just having touch that wasn’t tainted with torture or trades. Using his body to provide safety. But he didn’t have to do that with Toris, they could comfort each other like this with no string attached, no need to control. He missed such genuine intimacy. No matter what kinky stuff Ivan forced him to do, he could never replace this warmth, could never give or receive it in a real way. 

“Thanks, Toris… I’m glad you’re gonna be there with me. Oh, and Ravis too.” Feliks sniffed, gave Toris a squeeze before pulling back. “Speaking of, you know we should go help the poor guy. In the kitchen alone, geeze. There’s not a worse spot in the lab. Anyone can like, get you in there with your back turned.” Feliks knew from experience how it felt to have Ivan sneak up behind him when peeling potatoes, crushed against the counter, and unable to getaway. If all three of them were in there working it was less likely to happen. 

“Mm, let’s go before something happens,” Toris stated, pulling Feliks to his feet and giving the back of his hands a gentle kiss, pulling him along the room with their fingers barely brushing against one another. It drew a small smile to Felik’s face.

“C’mon.”

While the other assistants scurried about making food and setting the table, Ivan spent his time getting Gilbert ready. Ever since waking up and forcing him to beg to be fucked, taking him by force, and making him _love_ it, the albino had been more pliable. Like he was in shock about what had just happened, what his body was being turned into. Ivan was able to work easily because of this, unlocking each limb in turn and helping him sit up, transferring him to a rolling chair, cuffing his ankles to the bottom, and his wrists around the arms of the chair. 

Gilbert allowed himself to be placed in the wheelchair, despite it being so very humiliating. There was nothing he could have done either way; he was powerless against Ivan’s strength but the promise of food outweighed the other options more, Gilbert felt rather excited as his knee thrummed up and down anxiously, warily looking around.

“What food will there be? I’m starvin’ for steak, bacon - Mmm, potatoes…”

Ivan laughed darkly but didn’t answer. 

“What’s your favorite food, Gilbert?”

“Meat and potatoes,” Gilbert responded, listing the first thing that popped into his head. His stomach moaned in commiseration.

“I’ll have the others prepare it. Now say thank you, Daddy.”

Gilbert’s cheeks flushed pink, lips curled in what one would call a pout. 

“T-thank you, Daddy..”

“That’s right, you know how to be good. Now, while they’re making food, I want you to get ready as well. I got a little treat for you…” Ivan shifted his thighs, dragging Gilbert to the edge of the wheelchair to grip the dildo and pull it out. Ivan pulled another one out from his lab coat, a similarly stupid-large size, however, this one had a small wire snaking from the end of it running to a small control box. Ivan inserted the new dildo, cold and slick with lube, and gave him a few warming thrusts before switching a button on and the entire thick length started vibrating madly inside him, a muffled buzzing sound emerging between his legs. 

“H-hey- wait--” Gilbert knew it was futile to try and stave Ivan off, but what was happening was beyond him. A strange tool was inserted inside of him, then Ivan pressed a button and vibrations began running through him, the sensation so intense it had Gilbert’s hips riding up in the air, his cock twitching to life as his body enjoyed the humming.

“T-the hell is inside of me?!” Gilbert didn't mean to shout, but he couldn’t help it as he panicked. 

“Calm down Gilbert, it’s just an appetizer. Something to keep you satisfied while you wait.” Ivan touched Gilbert’s hardening cock with a single heavy finger, dragging it up the softhard skin but never gripping him like he knew Gilbert wanted. “Now be patient, dinner will be ready soon.” 

Ivan wheeled him into another lab room, one that had been converted to a dining area, plates, and glasses gleaming on the table. He turned and left him there, tucked up to the table, toy buzzing happily inside him, ready for whatever happened next. 

Gilbert sat there anxiously waiting, what the hell was Ivan up to? At least, he was able to not think about his impending hunger - the toy logged in his ass was distracting enough. The vibrating toy felt really good, yet it was so loud, so all-encompassing. 

Gilbert anxiously looked around the room, turning his head to the door from where Ivan had left and back towards the clothed table; just, what fuckery was this? Gilbert was tempted to unlodge the toy inside of his ass, but he knew better.

It was impossible to know how much time had passed, but eventually, the smell of cooked meat and herbs began to waft into the room, and a moment later Toris came into the room carrying a platter of meat, cutlets sizzling in their own savory juices. Behind him came Feliks carrying a pot of mashed potatoes, butter, and seasoning soaking through the mounds of spuds. Finally, a short mousy-haired man came in carrying a bowl of steamed green beans. All three of them hesitated but didn’t miss a beat when they saw the state of Gilbert. They glanced nervously back and forth but they didn’t say anything, already accepting the fate of a bound, naked, dinner guest with an obvious and loud dildo vibrating his ass as something completely normal in this twisted lab.

Gilbert groaned as the scent of freshly cooked meat and potatoes filled the air, inhaling deeply at the mouth-watering smells, it flooded his nose and senses, eagerly watching the three men place down the steaming pots Gilbert leaned forward, licking his lips - so entranced he had forgotten about his current state. He watched the three men wearily glance between him and away. Naked, vibrator up his ass; Gilbert remembered how he looked at once and shrunk in on himself, hanging his head low as he tried to fold his legs over his penis - away from their judging eyes.

None of them said anything, a heavy dense anxiety coated the table, rising with the delicious smells and mixing into a strange sensation. They filed in and sat down, waiting silently as Ivan finally entered, the final to arrive and carrying nothing. He swept to the head of the table, Gilbert on his right, and slowly sat down. He smiled broadly, looked at each of them in turn. 

“It’s taken a long time, Gilbert took a while to finally learn the rules, but now we can all be here as a family together. Isn’t that wonderful?” 

The three of them nodded mutely, still, no one had moved. Waiting for permission.

“C...can we please eat, Daddy?” Gilbert found himself mumbling, the growling growing much too hard to bear now that there was solid food within arms reach. His mouth was watering, thick with saliva. 

Ivan smiled wider and nodded. 

“Certainly, let’s begin.” Ivan grabbed a steak using his fork and loaded it onto his plate, spooning a large dollop of mash and a helping of vegetable, and slid the plate beneath Gilbert’s nose before passing the bowls down the table for the others to fill their plates. Ivan watched them all carefully, keeping the pressure on them even if it was silent. Gilbert was still cuffed to the chair, unable to reach his plate, and the food sat steaming under his nose.

Gilbert couldn’t help but lean over again as the plate was brought under his nose, groaning softly at the savory delectableness. Eagerly Gilbert was about to reach with his hands, not caring for the utensils before he remembered he was cuffed to the chair. Another tug.

“You all may begin,” Ivan said slowly, watching the three of them pick up utensils and mechanically start eating. They kept quiet, tried not to let the silverware clatter against the plate, or make any extra noise to avoid Ivan’s attention. They kept glancing over toward the wheelchair, all of them nervous about what was coming. 

Gilbert moaned, his confused red eyes drawn to Ivan’s looming form with a pout on his lips.

“How… how am I supposed to eat without my hands?”

Ivan laughed and stroked Gilbert’s wrist in its cuff. 

“I said you would be joining us for dinner, not that you would be eating. I can’t have solids in your system disrupting my experiments. That’s why they cooked your favorite. So you could see how much we all enjoy it on your behalf.”

“W-what?” The word’s left Gilbert’s mouth before he could even stop them, his eyes narrowing as he slowly digested Ivan’s words. It was as if the hand on his wrist was a silent threat for Gilbert - but he wasn’t having it.

He… he wasn’t going to eat?

“B-but- I’ve been good! I’ve been good for you, damn it!” Gilbert felt himself blow up, it was sudden and intense, there was no such thing as a joke when it came to Ivan; he meant to torture him with food and the injustice of it flooded through him against any better judgment he had.

“Y-you liar!”

Ivan gripped his wrist hard enough to hurt, a warning.

“I didn’t lie, you assumed. Now, sit quietly. You’ll get your usual IV feeding later. Enjoy the smells and the company.” Ivan could have added ‘or else’ but didn’t need to, it was already implied. 

Gilbert’s outrage couldn’t be talked down so easily and he took his chance and disobeyed the direct orders in front of Ivan’s subordinates. He didn’t give a shit, damn - if he wasn’t going to eat, he really would die of starvation! Gilbert leaned forward, his lips kissing the warm meat as he took an eager bite, some mashed potatoes sticking to his cheek. He chewed desperately, moaning; whether it was from the flavor of the food or the vibrator in his ass, Gilbert couldn’t tell.

The thought of punishment hadn’t crossed Gilbert’s mind as he rebelled, couldn’t care less within that ravenous mindset. So it took him completely off guard when Ivan swept the plate out from under him in one violent lunge, grabbing Gilbert by the throat and slamming him back against the wheelchair. He squeezed tightly, choking Gilbert and punishing him in one motion. 

“Spit it out,” Ivan said dangerously. 

Gilbert hadn’t expected such a violent reaction, but he should have. He continued to underestimate Ivan’s abilities and power. Gilbert glared, breathing shallowly through his nose as his fists clenched into balls. He would get at least one bite down, damn it!

As if reading his mind, Ivan pinched his nose shut, still throttling him, completely cutting off any ability to breathe.

Gilbert couldn’t last more than a minute as Ivan plugged his nose, coughing some of the chewed meat out.

Ivan moved quickly, uncuffing him and yanking him out of the chair by his hair. He spun him around so they were facing each other before he threw him against the table, sending bowls and glasses clattering and skittering across the surface. He drew back his fist and let Gilbert see what he was about to do. 

“You swallowed some, didn’t you?” Ivan asked lowly and that was the only warning he got as Ivan punched him right in the stomach. 

The blow made Gilbert bend forward around the brutal punch, bile, and not much else coming up as his body was wracked with dry heaves. Gilbert tried to curl in on himself, panting wetly with pain.

Ivan grinned, enjoying meting out the punishment far too much, and he didn’t let Gilbert recover. Despite the crying and the vomit, and the terrified staring audience, he flipped Gilbert around right there and folded him across the table, yanked the vibrator out, and shoved his huge hard cock in with a single thrust. He pinned Gilbert by the neck so he couldn’t get up, so his body smeared over Ivan’s plate, potatoes mashing over his hips, steak sizzling against his flank, and began rolling against him in a brutal rhythm. 

“I told you not to eat, are you simply too stupid to understand, or do you like being treated like this?” Ivan asked cruelly, never slowing his thrusts, taking him right there in front of the others. 

Toris gasped at the sudden violence even though part of him had expected it. Feliks was white as a sheet, his brows knit together in fearful concern, Ravis was shaking and rattling in his chair and Toris couldn’t help but look away from the rape. He hated seeing it, hated being forced to go along with it. He couldn’t do anything…

“Everyone, look at this ungrateful dog. This is what happens when you’re bad, burn it into your minds.”

“N-nien! Don’t l-look!” Gilbert squeaked, desperately grasping onto the white table cloth as he felt the spoiled food splurge all over his belly. It was a disgusting sensation, but not as much as how Ivan violently thrust his hips inside his ass like a wild animal, so much so Gilbert couldn’t even catch his breath as he felt his body battle against the pain and pleasure. 

Gilbert regretted eating, it wasn’t worth Ivan’s wrath. Gilbert started to sob and sniffle.

“I-I’m sorry-- I’m sorry- I was just- so ahh, hungry! B-bitte, stop! Stop!” Gilbert shouted, his ears ringing loud as he felt his brain turn into congealed mush from Ivan’s violent thrusting. 

“No, I’m not going to stop. You’re going to take it. And you also have to apologize to each of them for ruining dinner. Toris, Feliks, and Ravis.” Ivan jerked the albino’s head toward each one as he said their name, finally introducing them to Gilbert in the most despicable way possible. 

“Now, apologize.” Ivan kept his pace up, ramming Gilbert against the table as he spoke. 

Gilbert gasped as he was forced to keep up the pace, he was forced to meet their eyes; remorse, shame, disgust - Gilbert wasn’t too sure which it was he felt more, but he couldn’t stand it how they watched him violently being pounded into. His body began to hurt, a dry heave as he tried to form the words Ivan wanted to hear from him; the pain inflicted on his body was just too much to bear, too overwhelming, overstimulated. 

“I---I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry--- T-Toris! F-Feliks, Ravis!” Gilbert barely managed to squeak their names, an awkward almost inhumane noise falling past Gilbert’s lips as he could feel Ivan’s large fists tear some of his soft, white strands.

“Well? Keep eating. Don’t let it get cold…” Ivan growled, leaning over to grind roughly against Gilbert’s ass, holding him down as he swiveled with increasing intensity. He had been waiting, baiting Gilbert into being bad just so he could do this in front of them. Just so he could establish dominance over everyone all at once. 

Toris felt his tongue turn to ash in his mouth. Ivan wanted them to… keep eating and pretending? Like this wasn’t happening right in front of them? He felt absolutely sick and glanced at the other two. Feliks had crossed his arms, frowning like he wanted to throw a fit but fear held him back. Ravis looked as sick as he felt but he was also the first to grab his fork and spear a green bean and put it woodenly in his mouth. Toris sighed, knew there was no choice. Even if he felt like puking himself, Gilbert’s pained cries hitting him like punches in the gut, Toris cut a tiny minuscule piece of meat and put it past his lips. Sure enough, it tasted like sawdust. His throat rebelled, not wanting to swallow. How Ivan could be so cruel… He had no idea. 

“D-daddy, it hurts, it hurts!” Gilbert wailed, the table shaking with the intense thrusting as he felt his body give up, Ivan had all the control. He always had. 

“Say thank you, you ungrateful bitch. Thank me for gracing you with this dick.” Ivan slammed harder into him, so close, so close…

“Thank you, thank you so-- so much Daddy!” Gilbert sobbed, please, just make it stop!

"That's right, that's right, this is what you're good for…" Ivan snarled, hips stuttering as he pumped out his release from inside Gilbert. He kept him pinned there until everything went limp, sliding out of his with a wet pop. He shoved the dildo back in place and took Gilbert by the neck as he lifted and tossed him into his chair and snapped his wrists back into the cuffs. He sat down heavily in his chair and sighed happily. The table was deathly silent. Ivan refilled his ruined plate after sliding the remnants off in front of Gilbert and started to eat heartily. He glanced at the others.

"What's wrong? Keep eating."

Silently they complied. Gilbert sat stunned and still in his wheelchair, sniffing miserably.

\----

The next day, Ivan finally uncuffed Gilbert and gave him some clothes for the first time since he arrived, thin shorts and a threadbare shirt, and then led him to a small holding cell. There was nothing inside but a bench, a small bucket, a hole cut in the bottom of the metal door so food could be slid inside. He was shoved inside and told to wait quietly for a “surprise”. 

He didn’t like the sound of that. 

However, when Ivan came back it wasn’t with a new toy or some twisted restraint, but rather a young albino girl. 

Her name was Rosé. She was probably only around eight and she was from France. She didn’t speak any German - but when Ivan walked into the room with her, holding her by her hand, her eyes grew wide when she saw Gilbert. She pointed at him and smiled, pointing back at herself and her own red eyes. Gilbert was instantly suspicious of Ivan bringing the girl but had a hard time holding onto that emotion as Rosé pulled away from Ivan and came straight over to Gilbert sitting on his cot by the wall. She talked rapidly, looked excited and happy despite being in a Nazi camp. Gilbert let her clamber up into his lap and sat there still chattering away in her adorable childlike French. He wondered if her parents were still around… 

Ivan left them alone after that. Gilbert had been terrified he was going to hurt her in front of him, or him in front of her, and was grateful when he instead just left them alone for hours. It was a gift any time Gilbert wasn’t physically restrained, the fact he was allowed minimal clothing was also a relief. Through their suffering at Ivan’s hands, they connected as they whispered sweet nothings, Gilbert most specifically in broken English as they played small hand games that required little communication. She sat in his lap and traced his eyes and face with her tiny fingers, marveling at how similar they were. She did little jumps and twists for him, a little kid was finally happy to have a captive, considerate audience. 

Gilbert didn’t even think of it as suspicious at the time, for he was grateful to have another soul other than that mad man. Even more interestingly so, she was also albino - something Gilbert had never seen other than within himself. Gilbert wanted to protect her, cradling her close to his thin chest as her breath was warm. Even though they knew nothing about each other, other than they were suffering. They could connect wordlessly in other ways.

Ivan must have known that to be the case. 

Gilbert wasn’t sure why, but Ivan snuck into their cell and abruptly took her the next morning, terror striking through him as he felt Rosé being lifted out of his arms and she tried to reach out for him, crying, sobbing and grasping - but Ivan was having none of it and easily separated them. He left the cell door open and that’s when Gilbert realized his ankle had been cuffed to a chain and he was tethered in the cell block. Ivan dragged Rosé over to what looked like a large glass incubator and tossed her inside like a piece of dirty laundry. 

Gilbert felt immense dread strike through him as he began to hear a loud hissing noise fill the glass tank, a fog slowly being released inside. Rosé screamed and cried and banged her little fists against the glass. Gilbert threw himself against the cell bars, yelling like a madman. 

All Ivan did was watch, watch, watch, _watch_ as her screams began to become a throbbing mess, pulsing sounds Gilbert had never heard before, screams that would haunt him for the rest of his life. It made his blood turn to ice, made the bottom of his stomach dissolve, and fall out, made his knees turn to water. Utterly horrifying.

Gilbert tried to get to Rosé, wanting to save her from Ivan’s monstrous experiment - but he couldn’t, he remained chained to the wall, even going as far as almost breaking his ankle at his frenzied state and trying to reach for her.

Rosé screams were a garbled mess as Gilbert watched her in flashes between the ribbons of fog, skin melted off like a living nightmare as the loud hissing noise continued to rise and reverberate within the glass tank, her bones turning soft as her blood bubbled and pooled to the floor. Slowly, her tortured noises died out and what was left of her was just her bloody juices as Gilbert watched with agony and horror as her remains continued to vibrate and bubble. 

Ivan enjoyed watching the entire process from start to finish, he set the camera on the little girl as well as the thermometer, radiograph, other instruments to measure her death in precise black and white numbers. It had been gruesome, even Ivan could admit that, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t necessary. If they could find a way to make their enemies turn albino, then radiation attacks like this would be devastatingly effective. 

Gilbert didn’t understand that logic of course. When Ivan put the little girl in the chamber to test the effects of concentrated radiation beams on albinos, he knew she wouldn’t survive the experiment no matter what the outcome. That’s why he’d given her to Gilbert for a night together, a small grace before her death, a small prize for Gilbert to be unchained and entertained by her innocent antics for a small time. Before her end. 

He should be grateful Ivan thought, walking closer to Gilbert who was still throwing himself against the chain, trying to reach the molten melted mess of a girl in the chamber. Why couldn’t he see that? Ungrateful albino…

“Why are you making such a racket Gilbert? You’re lucky it’s not you in there.”

“I might as well be in there! She’s - done nothing wrong, you murdered her!” Gilbert shouted, spit and venom frothing from his mouth as he glared at Ivan like he was the absolute devil himself. How could Ivan do that, to such an innocent, sweet, little girl? Gilbert struggled to understand Ivan’s mindset, how his brain could reason through such evil. 

“Tell me, Gilbert, do you ever consider it murder when you stomp a cockroach? When you take aspirin do you think about the rats that were tested to make it safe? This is just the next step. She wasn’t murdered, she was just unlucky to be born albino. Same as you. But I’m so kind, I’m not going to treat you like that. I’m going to take good care of you, Gilbert,” Ivan said, kneeling and gripping Gilbert’s chin at the end of his chain. 

“Say thank you, Gilbert. Thank you for keeping my worthless life alive.” 

Gilbert snarled, loud and aggressive, almost animalistic like as he swiped his paw towards Ivan, scratching the high point of his cheekbone with his brittle nails. 

“Don’t compare her to a cockroach! I’d rather be dead than you looking after me.”

Ivan reared back from the swipe, already half-anticipating it, and with an over the top sigh he knelt again to grab Gilbert’s wrist, holding it tight as he tried to pull away. 

“Do you mean that Gilbert? You’d rather be dead than in my care? If you’re more trouble than you’re worth then I’m happy to test an adult dose of radiation on you, what do you think?” Ivan asked it as a question but was already standing up to move, unlocking Gilbert from the shackle who immediately lunged at the brute, thrashing violently and whacking his fists into his broad chest, but still unable to topple the large Russian man. Never letting go of his wrist Ivan dragged him upright and closer to the glass chamber, the broiled remains of innocence still bleeding there. 

It didn’t take much for Ivan to overpower him and throw open the doors of the same glass chamber. The smell hit them full force and Ivan threatened to turn it on if he didn’t calm down. Ivan ignored how Gilbert screamed and clawed at his arm, trying to wrench free and get away from the remains but being completely ineffective as Ivan easily tossed Gilbert inside. He tripped over the high rim on his way in and fell sideways into the blood and viscera coating the bottom third of the chamber. He’d slipped in her gore, fallen on the remains, fallen on Rosé. 

Gilbert hadn’t realized how much he had clung to Ivan as he was tossed inside, a cry of terror escaping his chapped lips as he slipped and fell within the blood and gore, the smell was rancid, overwhelming; Gilbert almost felt faint as he heaved and inhaled with his nose, his shoulders shaking violently as he felt the gore burn and sizzle the soft skin on his feet, hands, and knees- anywhere that was practically exposed to the chemical as he smashed his fist against the glass, screaming at the top of his lungs in complete hysterics. 

She was still sizzling, bits of flesh broiling under the remains of radiation, coating him entirely. His skin burned and fizzled, the chemical reaction a painful experience as he tried to push against the glass, but it only ended up wearing him out into a thin flame as he fell to his knees, sobbing hysterically. Gilbert went as far as pushing himself until he fainted from exhaustion, a dull and heavy thump as he laid in his friend’s gore.

Ivan sat back and watched him struggle, watching him burn and beat himself against the glass like a bird hitting a window. He didn’t need to turn the machine on, there was enough residual radiation in the chamber from the girl that Gilbert would get burned no matter what. He smiled as he watched Gilbert tire himself out, slamming his fist against the glass over and over until his knuckles opened up and he couldn’t tell where his blood ended and hers started. Ivan watched him vomit and cry and buckle down until he was a miserable huddle on the grate at the bottom. 

He waited even past that until Gilbert passed out. Whether from radiation, stress, or something else he wasn’t sure. But now that he had gotten that rebellion out of his system Ivan was looking forward to pampering him. Cleaning him off, feeding him, maybe they would go even further tonight… If he was good… Ivan smiled dreamily. 

He stood up and opened the chamber, scooping Gilbert up from the floor and walking out of the lab. On his way, he yelled at Toris to take samples and then begin the decontamination process in the chamber. The little girl had served her purpose. Now Gilbert would serve his… He ignored the horror and judgment on Toris’ face as he walked by. He didn’t understand the relationship between him and Gilbert, this was just as necessary as irradiating Rosé had been.

Ivan set him in the tub adjacent to his room, began to run the tap with a pleasantly warm temperature. It was Gilbert’s first real bath since arriving. He’d only been wiped down up until that point, and only when on good behavior. Being dipped into warm bubbly water like this was a treat Ivan hoped he wouldn’t squander. Being half out of it helped. Was he unconscious or disassociated? Ivan hummed thoughtfully as he tilted his head back, poured a pitcher of warm bathwater back over his scalp. The bathwater was tinged a light pink, blood, and bits and bile coming off his body. 

“Gilbert… Are you awake?” Ivan asked, rubbing soap down his arms. 

“Hhnnn..” Gilbert softly moaned, he was content with staying unconscious, but feeling the warmth surround him caused Gilbert to almost panic, his feet briefly kicking and sloshing the water, some of it going on the tiled floor as his wet arm gripped onto Ivan’s neck, anything to stop him from slipping and plunging under the water. 

“W-w-woah!”

“Hey, calm down. I’ve got you. Be still now Gilbert…” Ivan threatened, pulling Gilbert’s hand down, pinning him to the back of the tub again before going back to washing him as if he’d never moved. 

“You need to be good so I can be nice to you. I want to be nice… I can get you clean…” Ivan pulled the plug and let the water drain out, “I can get you dry,” Ivan pulled him up, swathed him in a towel, and pulled him out onto the rug beside the tub. “I can keep you safe…” Ivan stepped back and let Gilbert stand free for a moment. Naked and unbound. 

“And if you’re good, I’ll even feed you, would you like that? Better than being irradiated, right my little albino?” 

It felt oddly strange, given this sense of freedom, whether Ivan was testing him or not, Gilbert thought of Rosé, her painful screams causing his ears to ring. The smell of burning flesh he could never forget, the sounds-- Gilbert without a second thought lunged towards Ivan, balling his injured hand into fists as he felt the satisfying crunch beneath bone as he landed a hit on Ivan’s large, fat nose and felt it crack and squelch. Gilbert was livid and it was worth it, the pain, the suffering, seeing Ivan’s shocked reaction as he rubbed his sore, thin wrists. “I’m not, your little _albino. M_ _örder.”_

Ivan didn’t expect that punch, not after everything Gilbert had already been through. The fact he had this much fire, this much resistance even after that, made Ivan shiver with sadism. He’d given Gilbert a chance, even told him as much, and now for him to punch him like this was unacceptable. Gilbert stood there, thin and naked and eyes gleaming, fists up as if to strike again. Pathetic attempts. Ivan would crush them. 

Gilbert had no chance against the cattle prod as Ivan pulled it from the back of his belt and shoved the tip against Gilbert’s damp flesh. He let out a high cry and collapsed jerking from the electric shocks. Ivan growled and stood over him holding his nose which had started to bleed and drip onto Gilbert. After he’d just gotten clean too, time to stain him with blood again it seemed. 

“You ingrate… If you’re not my albino then you’re nothing more than a lab rat! Nothing more than something to be used.” Ivan pulled a length of leather with a buckle, similar to his dog collar with the major difference being the large metal O-ring connecting the two ends. Ivan hadn’t wanted to use this, but if he was going to be violent then so would he. Before Gilbert could recover Ivan handcuffed him once again, strapped the leather around Gilbert's head with the silver ring of metal on the front which he forced into Gilbert’s mouth, clacking against his teeth as he got it in place and tightened it roughly. He pulled him up to his knees by his collar, slapped him to center him, and stared him right in those blood-red eyes. 

“You bite the hand that feeds you? Worse than a dog. You punch the person who saves you? Well, what does that make you then? Lower than nothing. You don’t deserve any of the kindness I’ve given you. You don’t deserve food, just dick. That’s what your mouth is good for from now on, you’re never eating again in the lab. The only thing pushing past those lips of yours is cock. I’d say open wide… But well, I’ve already taken care of that for you…” Ivan said with clear venom in his voice, holding Gilbert by the hair as his large erect dick emerged from his pants. Without any other warning, he shoved the thick length right into Gilbert’s wrenched-open mouth, hitting the back and not stopping, sliding down until his pelvis was crushed to Gilbert’s face and the albino was genuinely _freaking out._

Gilbert couldn’t focus, the electric shock wave had sent him into a crippled heap as he squealed like a dying pig, his body arching in ways he never knew was possible, impassive of Ivan’s blood as it splotched on his thighs in large clumps. It would have been satisfying, but what Ivan did next sent Gilbert into overdrive, biting down hard on the metal that kept his mouth strained open, the corners of his lips tearing from the stretch, but fuck, fuck, fuck, Gilbert wasn’t prepared for Ivan to plunge his wide, long cock inside of his mouth, his eyes constricting like small pinpricks as he felt nothing but vile disgust. Ivan’s cock kept hitting the back of his throat, causing Gilbert to choke and gag as Ivan used brutal force, his narrow hips painful as Gilbert tried to grasp on something, anything, fuck, fuck -- 

It happened so suddenly, but he couldn’t even pull away if he had the chance, feeling the bile rise as wet, sloppy tears poured from his red eyes. His face ached, his jaw throbbed, his throat was raw, and still, it went on. Please, bitte, make it fucking stop! Gilbert grasped onto Ivan’s strong thighs and dug in with his brittle fingernails, why the fuck was he going through this? Why the fuck did he deserve this? What the fuck was going on in Ivan’s fucked up mind? It hurt too much to try and think that anything Ivan ever did was justified, him breathing alone was worth such cruelty and a waste of space according to Ivan.

“That’s right… My little puppy… Choke on my dick. Gag on me, it’s all you’re good for…” Ivan grabbed him tighter and held him close, hips pressed in, cock throbbing inside him, watched his face as he struggled to breathe, jerked and his eyes grew wide, and blood leaked from the corners of his mouth from biting down so hard, but he couldn’t do anything about the meaty dick plugging his throat, jumping on his gag reflex, forcing him in the most base and humiliating way. Ivan would have been happy to suffocate him on dick, let him pass out from his girth, but when Gilbert started heaving instead, Ivan wanted no part of that and stepped back to let him vomit on himself instead. 

Gilbert sobbed as he gagged, letting the heaves roll through him with the tears in the same motion. There wasn’t much to vomit, just stomach bile and some random sick, but for the moment he was grateful for the need to puke. It meant Ivan would give him a chance to breathe. The circle of metal in his mouth was sour, blood, and bile harder to spit out with it lodged there. He couldn’t close his mouth, couldn’t do anything to stop it as Ivan pulled him upright again by his neck and dragged him against the wall. 

Ivan stood straddling him. He cracked his neck in both directions, dragged the back of his hand across his nose to wipe away the remaining blood. Gilbert was going to pay for that punch for the rest of his short life. Ivan drank in the fear he could see in his eyes, the garbled whimpers from his wrenched open mouth. He knew he would have the albino trained eventually, none of the others had been this feisty for this long, so had he to take his moments of passion with some patience. 

“Don’t worry, I’ve got the patience to spare. This is your first time performing fellatio?” Ivan asked, tilting Gilbert’s chin up. The confused expression made him chuckle. He knew he would be asking what that meant had his mouth been free. Stupid boy… Though he could be trained. 

“Sucking dick, that is... “ Ivan smiled as Gilbert blushed and gave a tiny nod. His training was already paying off. 

“The gag reflex is just like any other physical reflex. You can be trained out of it. Same as training your eye not to twitch when putting in a contact. It just takes time and repetition.” Ivan pressed his flushed dick against Gilbert's spit-slicked lip.

“So now, we’re going to train your gag reflex, either until you stop dry heaving, or I manage to cum down your worthless throat. Then we will stop. Understand?” Ivan asked cooly, talking to him only as a formality. He would figure it out eventually regardless of what he said. His hips leaned in lazily, letting the tip drag in and out, not too far yet. Gilbert had nowhere to go, flat against the wall, naked and bound, mouth wrenched open. Ivan could and would keep him there all night until he got what he wanted. 

He leaned forward again, and with the tiled wall behind him, Gilbert had nowhere to go. His skull hit the wall as Ivan pushed in, sliding down his throat and then pulling back as Gilbert jerked and spasmed, then sinking forward again. Over and over, lengthening the time spent down his throat as he went. Gilbert kept dry heaving, his gag reflex was particularly sensitive, but Ivan just paused long enough to give him a chance before he was back at it again, deep throating from the jump. 

Gilbert had no experience, didn’t know how to give a good blowjob and Ivan knew it. This skullfucking was as good as he could get right now, Ivan would train him up eventually. But for the sin of punching him, right now making Gilbert choke over and over and over through the night was more important. 

Somewhere near the end of the third hour, Gilbert was finally able to take Ivan’s dick down his throat without flinching. He was so pleased with the thousand-yard stare and the accommodating soft palate, that Ivan let himself go and shot his load down Gilbert’s throat. It happened at the same time, his learning to quell the gag reflex, and Ivan happening to cum and end the session. 

“Good boy…” Ivan said breathily, rubbing Gilbert’s hair, memorizing the exhausted despair on his face. The way he cried without tears, so dehydrated from the scene. Ivan hadn’t let up for hours and Gilbert’s throat was a sore raw mess. 

It was good enough punishment, but that didn’t mean he would get fed. That would never happen again, only IV nutrients from now on. It was a rule Ivan intended to enforce. And for this evening, Gilbert deserved to go hungry so he wouldn’t even get that, only a spatter of cum for food. 

Ivan dragged him out of the bathroom and took him back to the main lab, the cold impersonally sterile area, and shoved Gilbert onto the ground. He would sleep ass up all night. Ivan clipped spread bars to his knees, clipped his collar to the floor, and with no caution whatsoever slipped the plug out of his ass and reinserted an even larger one before he strode away flicking the lights off as he went. He stood outside the lab door and listened to Gilbert’s garbled yelling and complaining. 

He would learn, even if it took time. Eventually, they all learned…

\---

Ludwig spent the next few weeks in basic training and wasn’t able to check on his brother. But the line moved quickly in the war machine and he was already an extremely fit specimen. He moved quickly and naturally into his role. Also knowing his brother was locked up securely in a lab somewhere comforted Ludwig. He wasn’t running around with Roderich and Elizaveta anymore letting his head be filled with their propaganda.

A full two months had passed before he was able to spend time looking up his brother’s number. He went to the laboratory and rattled it off, asking for his file. The secretary, a short blond with hair to his ears, a slack vacant look about his face, heaved a deep sigh as if the request was such a heavy burden. 

“Like, we don’t even keep those files up here. I’ll need to go to the back.” He continued to sit, doodling with a pen.

Ludwig cleared his throat. Glared at the incompetent secretary. 

“So? What are you waiting for?” 

“Ugh, I didn’t know you wanted it now, geeze. Give me a break. Alright, tell me again.” 

Ludwig repeated the number, already feeling irritated by this secretary’s attitude. The petite man hopped off his stool and stretched, scratching the back of his head as he walked into the back.

“Alright, gimme a minute.” 

Ludwig waited and waited. Five minutes passed, then ten. It was bordering dangerously close on a quarter past when the secretary finally returned. The ditzy look on his face worse than before. 

“So, like, you’re not gonna believe this but… That number you’re looking for? Like, it _totally_ doesn’t exist. You sure that’s the right number?”

Ludwig felt his already hot temper flare and reached over the desk to grab the little man by his lapels, drag him close, and pulled over the top of the desk. Pens fell and rolled across the floor and the secretary gave a small _meep_ , eye’s widening. 

“What’s your name?” Ludwig growled. 

“F-Feliks, herr… Really, I checked everywhere, I promise. There’s no record, I even looked at our culled lists...” He replied quietly, his demeanor completely changed, now focused entirely on Ludwig, fear dancing in his eyes, his tone more attentive, submissive. It was enough to save him from being punched at least, someone had taught him well. 

“Feliks, where’s that tall doctor. The one called Ivan?” 

Feliks paled, going white in his grip.

“He’s here, isn’t he? Bring him to me so we can talk,” Ludwig demanded. 

“I-I-I-I…” Feliks stuttered, fear coming from two directions now. Ludwig gave him a harsh shake to snap him out of it. 

“Speak!” 

“I can’t, herr! He mustn’t be interrupted- If I go back there, he’ll…” Feliks trailed off, closed his eyes tightly and scrunched his face, his shoulders, cringing as if already expecting a blow. Ludwig didn’t have time for it and shoved the sniveling coward away, striding behind the desk himself and going into the lab. 

“You mustn't!” Feliks cried, reaching out to him from his spot on the floor but not trying to go after him. He knew he was already in deep trouble. Went ahead and crawled under the desk to start rocking and self-soothing. Waiting for punishment was the pits…

Ludwig ran through the long hallway, remembering the passages and twists he’d taken last time, scanning constantly for any sign of Ivan or Gilbert. There’s no way he just vanished… 

Ivan came out of a room in front of him and Ludwig slowed down to stop right in front of him, getting right up in his face. He wasn’t used to having someone taller than him around but it didn’t matter. He was the one in the Nazi uniform, he had the real power here. 

“Where’s Gilbert?” Ludwig asked sharply.

Ivan quirked an eyebrow, tilted his head, and said “Who, exactly? We don’t go by names around here. You need his num-”

Ludwig grabbed him by the front and cut him off to shout the digits at him. 

“Tell me, where is he?” 

“If Feliks couldn’t find the number in our system, it doesn’t exist.” 

“You’re lying! You remember him! My brother, he’s albino, one month ago. You said you’d take care of him! You’re the one who tattooed him!” 

“I just can’t recall. So many souls pass through here, it’s hard to keep up. Are you sure it’s the right number?” Ivan asked innocently.

“You bastard, what have you done with my brother?” Ludwig ground out, anger burning hot and fast. 

“I’m just a lowly prisoner here, Officer Beilschmidt. How should I know?” Ivan replied, the flicker of a grin setting Ludwig off. He shoved the doctor back and charged into the room he’d just exited. 

“Gilbert? Are you here? Gilbert?” He looked everywhere, even the closet which was empty save for some stacked boxes. 

“I assure you there’s no one unaccounted for here, but please, feel free to tour our facilities Officer,” Ivan said demurely from the hallway, holding his arms to the side as if ushering Ludwig out. “Come, I’ll show you everything.” 

Ludwig felt his heart hammering, surely he was here. Ivan was mistaken. He turned away from the open closet and went into the hallway, ready to search every inch of the lab. 

Hours later, when Ludwig had gone home stunned, deflated and empty-handed, Ivan walked back to the first room he’d searched. He walked over to the open closet and slowly lifted the lid from a heavy wooden box, revealing Gilbert inside a soft padded interior, curled up, bound into place, ball gag and collar cinched overly tight around his neck so he couldn’t make a peep. 

He glared up at him, angry red eyes puffy from crying, jerking in his restraints as if trying to get up and fight him.

“Did you enjoy hearing your brother’s voice? So close to you but he couldn’t hear you. That’ll be that last time. Feliks is going to be punished for letting it happen at all. But not you, you were a good boy, stayed nice and quiet in your box. Even if you did need some training wheels to help you do it,” Ivan murmured, pulling at one of the ropes around him.

“So I’m not going to punish you, but I can’t spend time with you as I thought. Now I need to deal with Feliks. But in honor of your brother and the disgusting love you share, I bet your ass is all wet and warmed up and ready for the next level, isn’t it?” Ivan asked ironically, knowing he couldn’t answer him, knowing that’s not how it worked. He reached down to pull the plug out from his ass, a larger one already lubed and ready to be inserted, just hiding behind Ivan’s back. He pushed the larger object against Gilbert and smiled grimly as his sore body stretched, and then overstretched to accommodate.

Gilbert shuddered but took it - he had no choice but to take it. 

“So just sit tight and be pretty for me, I’ll be back for you later.” Ivan lowered the lid, returning Gilbert to the constrictive darkness. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Despite being one of them, Ludwig isn’t currently aware of everything the Nazis are doing, thinks camps are for labor, not extermination.  
> -The lab Ivan is in is fictional, however, the Nazis did do many human experiments, including testing on children.  
> -White Rose and Edelweiss Pirates that Elizaveta and Roderich join are both real resistance groups in Germany.  
> -Historians view Kristallnacht as a prelude to the Final Solution and the murder of six million Jews during the Holocaust.
> 
> EDIT- Next chapter is gonna be delayed until Narroch finishes moving! Then we'll go back to weekly. :P


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back at it again! Thanks for your patience. We should be going back to weekly updates. Chapter 4-6 used to be a single chapter but it got way too long so we chopped it up.

A single B♭ rang throughout the empty room, a high string as Roderick tensed, winced, and released the pressure from the dusty black key. It had been an accident, hitting the key with his elbow as he bent down to pick up scattered sheet music from the dirty floor, and Roderich cursed himself silently as the sound faded. 

Silence.

Tension.

Gut-wrenching.

“What the hell was that, Roddy?” Elizaveta whispered as she crouched on the other side of the room, stacking up a set of framed paintings in a pile.

“Sh, sh! Damn it, Eliza, I didn’t do it on purpose!” Roderick sighed, bringing a thin finger to observe the layer of dust gathered on the grand piano, a beautiful thing, really but it had been left to neglect and disuse and Roderich’s heart ached to see it in this sad state. It was one of Roderick’s favorite personal instruments to play. However, with war; there was oppression. Stripping their culture had been one of the first things to go. 

The Austrian couldn’t recall the last time he had listened to the music of any kind, let alone played it.

Roderick dragged his hand down his face, pulling at the smooth supple skin as his hair bounced and he had to force himself away from the miraculous instrument. It was just - sitting there, a halo in the light, simply tempting him to play. Roderick’s fingers danced by his sides, phantom keyboard maneuvers as he turned his back on the piano.

The instrument was too heavy to salvage and too loud to play even if they could. They were in what used to be a finely-furnished home belonging to a successful, Jewish family; there was a huge portrait of them over the cold fireplace, everyone dressed smartly, a glint in their eyes that spoke of pride, success, prosperity.

Roderick wondered what had become of the family now but quickly looked away. He knew if he dwelled on it for too long he would crumble. The Austrian sighed, eyebrows pinching up as he took down some paintings, books, anything that could be used against the Nazi party and keep hidden from them. The Jewish religion, his people, their culture. Just thinking about it made Roderick’s blood boil and grind his teeth. He was pulled out of his dark thoughts with a warm, gentle hand to his shoulder.

“You know what will happen if you think too much, come on; we’re wasting time. We… don’t have the luxury to fret about the past.”

“You’re right, but… it still doesn’t change the fact that innocent people are being killed, for what? _Nothing_ , I just - can’t get my head around it,” Roderick sighed, shoulders dropping.

“You don’t need to try and understand, we know that it's wrong. We will defeat them, kick their asses, and get our city back, just you wait.”

So solemnly Roderick smiled, his lips pinching upwards towards the dim sun casting shadows in the family host room that once was filled with life and memories. Now destroyed, tattered, and bankrupt. The Nazis had taken everything.

His home.

“You’re right, but we can’t get too cocky, not yet.. Let’s leave with what we can carry and head back to the base, we can come back for the rest in shifts now that it’s hidden.” 

They both nodded and Roderick reached for the gilded Torah that had been secretly kept underneath the floorboards, a place where his father had hidden them before the Nazis had come crashing in one morning while Roderick was out.

They left side by side through the back, ducking into an alleyway and loading all their reclaimed treasures into a secret closet in the entranceway before Roderick closed the door. They had to make it back to base, hide the cultural artifacts, and then repeat the process all over again with the next unoccupied home. They were trying to save everything they could before the rest of the looters helped themselves. The streets grew eerily empty as they kept their heads low and eyes to the ground. 

\----

Ludwig was lost. Not physically, he knew his role and his duty as a Nazi, but more so spiritually. He had no direction, no true cause anymore. He had done it all for Gilbert, had sacrificed their relationship to save him, to bring him around to his seedy side. But now that he was missing and the search so far was fruitless, the reason for everything he’d done up to that point vanished along with Gilbert. 

When he first turned up missing Ludwig had trashed the lab, opened every closet, every room, every cabinet, but his brother wasn’t anywhere to be found in the building. He knew the doctor Ivan must have done something but when he couldn’t find him in the lab Ludwig decided to go above his head and locate Gilbert without his help. But no matter where he looked, no matter what files he searched, no matter which officials he asked, no one knew anything. It was like Gilbert had turned into a ghost and vanished... 

He’d spent another full month doggedly searching for his brother until despair finally took hold. So, after another useless day of training and searching and worrying, when Feliciano hung on his elbow and asked if he wanted to grab a drink, Ludwig, for once, didn’t have the energy to deny him and let himself be pulled into the pub and ushered onto a barstool. He was listless, numb, and ready for another direction. Getting drunk was as good a distraction as any. It was only after he and Feliciano were seated that Ludwig looked around and realized it was the same pub where he fought with Roderich. It soured his mood further, this was where the rift had first started. 

When he placed his order Ludwig got a shot to go along with his beer. Feliciano raised a slender red eyebrow. It was unlike him to have anything stronger than beer.

“Trying to forget something?” 

“Ja,” Ludwig replied without any other explanation. He held the shot glass between his fingers, swirling the clear liquid, staring straight at it as if it could tell him something.

“Really? What’s that?” Feli asked innocently, leaning in closer, curls swaying. 

Ludwig frowned, annoyed that Feli was so oblivious though it wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t told anyone about his brother. He stopped contemplating the shot glass and downed it in one long-burning swig.

“I don’t want to talk about it…” Ludwig grabbed his beer to chase the burn of the spirits. 

“Well, we can drink about it instead and I’ll do the talking. Sounds good?” Feliciano winked at him and ordered another round for the two of them despite having just gotten started on the first. Feliciano seemed to be encouraging him to drown his loss in booze and Ludwig didn’t mind at all. At the very least appreciated not drinking alone, that would have made him feel even more pathetic. 

He looked at Feli from the side, not listening to him yammering on about the conditions of their training, and steadily sipped his beer. He hadn’t considered his new partner to be a friend, in fact he was rather annoying when they first met. But now in the dimmed lights of the pub, starting on his second beer with Feliciano smiling and articulating wildly at him while he told a story about his home in Italy, Ludwig felt himself getting drawn into the idea of companionship with someone who wasn’t his brother. 

_Gilbert._

The thought which had been circling him for weeks returned in an instant and the brief distraction Feliciano provided only made the misery come back stronger. Ludwig felt his sinuses start to prickle, something hard lodge in his throat, and before he realized what it meant tears were welling in his eyes. He sniffed hard, blinked fast, gave himself a shake, and lifted the beer to his lips, opening his throat to chug the majority of his second beer. Feli paused in his talking as he watched Ludwig and before the glass hit the bar he’d already ordered the third round for them both. 

“You okay, Ludwig? Feeling nostalgic for the old country too?”

“Old country? Feliciano, you know I’m from here. I’ve never even been to Italy.”

“But you will! Once we win this war I’ll show you my hometown and my garden and my brother - eh? What’s wrong Ludwig?” 

At the mention of brother, Ludwig felt the tears he’d just reined in shudder back to the front and he grasped his eyes beneath his palm, leaning against the bar as if he had a headache, rather than trying desperately not to cry in public. He scrubbed roughly at his eyes and took a deep breath before finally straightening back up. He couldn’t avoid it, he had no one else to talk to and if he didn’t say something to someone he was going to fall apart. 

“It’s… my brother,” Ludwig replied woodenly. He grabbed the third beer and swallowed some.

“Is he why you’re upset?” 

“Yes. I… I lost him.” 

“What do you mean?”

“I brought him to the Nazis for a cure, he didn’t want to go, he begged me not to leave him there… But I did it anyway. Because they said they would cure him… But when I came back to check on him he had disappeared. No one knows where he ended up or what happened to him and I can’t help but think he might be... ” Ludwig trailed off. He couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence, instead took another swig from his drink.

“Your brother, what did he need a cure for?”

Ludwig sniffed, drank more beer. The words were coming easily, less inhibited by his feelings. 

“He has a genetic condition, it makes him stand out. I thought this doctor was the one, would be the one to help him but he didn’t even care, didn’t even try. He just lost my brother in the system instead.”

“How do you know he’s been lost?”

“I already checked the lab, all the records, tried looking up his number - but it turned up nothing. Once I walked him through those doors it was like he stopped existing… What have I done?” Ludwig shook his head, but Feliciano grabbed his shoulder and squeezed. 

“Hey, listen, you can’t always know what’s going to happen. You’re the younger brother, right? Let him take care of himself. I bet he’s fine, it’s a big army isn't it?”

“Yes, but… I was the one to bring him there…” 

“But you didn’t lose him! I bet if we talked to that doctor together, right now, he might remember something!” 

“What do you mean? It’s already late-”

“Exactly! He will be so shocked he’ll tell you everything. People get freaked out when you don’t go through the normal channels!”

Ludwig didn’t bother telling him he already hadn’t gone through normal channels in his first confrontation, but it was true. Once he checked everywhere he just accepted Ivan’s word that Gilbert wasn’t there and he wasn’t informed of his transfer. Why would he be? A lowly prisoner wouldn’t typically be privy to such decisions so Ludwig had blindly accepted his answer and walked away from the last person who had seen him. Ivan had to know more than he was letting on, and with the alcohol humming through his veins overpowering any sense of restraint, the idea suddenly had a lot of merits. 

“You’re right Feliciano… I’m gonna go pay that crooked doc a night call…”

“You mean we! I’m coming too, I gotta see how this plays out!” Feliciano chirped happily, already standing up and pushing his chair in. 

They finished their third and then a fourth beer before they managed to leave and when they finally did they went arm in arm, weaving their way back toward the laboratory on tipsy legs. Feliciano couldn’t stop giggling, hanging off Ludwig and leaning heavily into him in turn, nuzzling against his arm and excited to be doing something questionable with him. 

As for Ludwig, the alcohol made his despair over losing Gilbert transform into a rage, into swagger, and he boasted loudly to Feliciano about how he and his brother Gilbert always used to play sports together, tearing across the fields after a ball, how Gilbert helped him study while in school despite being terrible at hitting the books for himself, how Gilbert would always be there to listen to him, one of the few people who could get him to open up. Gilbert had shaped him, he wouldn’t be here now if not for the guidance and love of his older brother. Anyone who tried to break their bond would face his wrath. 

Feliciano clapped and cheered, began chanting; “Face the wrath! Face the wrath!” to hype Ludwig up and so, by the time they reached the labs, they were both already overly excited and loud. Ludwig was practically vibrating with righteous fury and it was only luck that they didn’t run into other soldiers in the camp before arriving at the door. The late hour had something to do with it but neither was in the headspace to question it. 

The building was locked up tight for the night and so they waited until another pair on patrol exited the building. Feliciano darted out from behind them to catch the door before it closed, and the two of them snuck inside as the door closed with a soft click. Once inside, the building felt very different - while neat, clean, and orderly in the daylight, it turned narrow, dank, and suffocating at night. It made Feliciano stop and grasp tightly onto Ludwig’s arm - he hadn’t anticipated the dark interior to be so scary. 

Ludwig however, with a head full of beer foam and a heart full of hurt, he didn't even notice the intense atmosphere and immediately started yelling, storming down the hall trying to find Ivan.

Deeper within the building, Gilbert’s body burned with pleasure. Ivan kept his knees pinned to his chest, his hips widely thrusting in and out of his ass like a piston with such force Gilbert felt like he could fall unconscious as his toes curled, cock bouncing between his legs and the metal platform creaked and swayed, his moans loud and bouncing off the walls as he felt full to the brim with cum, senseless.

Ludwig’s voice suddenly cut through the sexual static, echoing down the empty halls from somewhere far away. 

“Ivan! I know you know where my brother is!” 

Gilbert stilled, even as he continued to feel Ivan move within him, clenching tightly as fright seized his chest. That voice - it sounded familiar! How could that be? He snapped upwards, not caring for the cock lodged deep within his ass as the long-dead hope that this nightmare might finally come to an end suddenly revived within him.

“L-Ludwig--”

Ivan grabbed him by his collar and shoved him back down on the table, pinning him there and choking him so he couldn’t speak at all. Weak hands pulled at his wrist, begging him silently for air but he ignored Gilbert’s struggles. His eyes held anger but a contradictory happy grin pulled his lips back, making him look even more beastly as he hissed into Gilbert’s face. 

“Remember your promise Gilbert… If you make a single noise, your little brother is heading straight to a camp, understand me?” 

Gilbert fought the urge to breathe, his feet flailing against the table, against Ivan still lodged between them, felt the familiar and desperate need for oxygen as he clawed at Ivan’s hand, his voice echoing within his ears as the involuntary tears began to fall.

This wasn’t fair, none of this was fair! 

Gilbert knew no matter what choice he made, regardless of the few options offered, he was fucked through and through. Despite Ludwig’s mistakes, Gilbert couldn’t make his brother endure this trauma. Ludwig deserved better.

Silently and obediently, with a glum expression, Gilbert stopped struggling and just nodded.

“Good… Now-” Ivan pulled himself out and shoved his usual dildo back in to keep Gilbert open for him. He never liked to leave the albino empty for even a moment. He kept his choking grip, dragged Gilbert off the table entirely, and shoved the wheeled table over against the wall. While Gilbert stumbled and struggled to get his legs under him, Ivan stepped around the desk and shoved him beneath it where he landed in a coughing heap. 

“You keep working on this,” Ivan sat in the chair blocking the albino into the small space, hefting his wet dick in one hand and angling it down so it lined up perfectly to Gilbert’s mouth. “And remember… keep it quiet or Ludwig is next.” 

Gilbert couldn’t fathom the hatred he felt towards Ivan at that moment as the spongy crown of his cock pressed against his closed mouth, he was just thankful he could breathe again; desperately sucking in the air as he began to hear faint footsteps draw nearer and nearer to the room. Usually, he couldn’t hear the faintest of sounds outside, but with all the machines off even Gilbert’s heart hummed like a hummingbird.

“Well? If you don’t start before he gets here…” Ivan trailed off with an evil grin, pressing his dick against Gilbert’s lips and smearing it across as if painting his lips with the blunt head. 

“I’m doing it, I’m doing it!” Gilbert growled, opening his mouth to allow the thick head of Ivan’s dick to sit inside of his mouth, his tongue lapping at the salty juices as he pushed himself further, stretching his mouth; just how Ivan liked it. He steadily ignored the fact that it had just been in his ass, Ivan had made sure to stamp that hesitance out of him by force until it wasn’t an issue anymore. 

Ivan hummed and spread his legs and got comfortable. All the while Ludwig’s stomping and the shouting grew closer and closer. Just as Gilbert’s lips reached his root, letting his dick twitch down the back of his throat, the door burst open. Ludwig was framed in the doorway, chest heaving and eyes burning blue-flame hot. He seemed surprised to find Ivan sitting there calmly and for a moment he didn’t say anything. Their eye contact in that silent moment could have started a fire.

Ivan took the opportunity to tilt his head and feign his surprise. 

“My, Ludwig. I wasn’t expecting you so late. Hasn’t the building already been secured for the night?” Ivan asked with a soft smile. 

“Ivan, you lied to me, I know you know more than you’re letting on about my brother!” Ludwig strode into the room and it was only then that Ivan noticed a second man accompanying him. Smaller and shier, as he hid behind Ludwig’s bulk and gripped his sleeve like a kid. Ivan ignored him. He wasn’t important. 

“Your brother? Remind me again…” 

“You know DAMN well Gilbert was here and you’re going to tell me what you did to him NOW!” Ludwig yelled and let his fists slam against the desk on the last word. 

Gilbert couldn’t believe he was hearing Ludwig’s voice again, after all this time, and the loud bang of the desk above his head made him jump with fright, almost forgetting the thick cock as his teeth fought the urge to bite down. With Ivan’s strategic training, Gilbert was able to avoid it, his cheeks growing hot as he tried to listen to the intense conversation above him while still sucking Ivan’s large cock as though his life depended on it.

"As I’ve told you before, this... brother you're looking for? If he isn’t in the system then he doesn’t exist.” 

Ludwig felt the rage surge through him and grabbed Ivan by the collar of his lab coat pulling him closer and leaning in so they were nearly nose to nose as he yelled with anguish. 

“White hair, red eyes! It’s not every day someone turns in an albino, Ivan! He’s here!”

Beneath the desk, Gilbert’s eyes widened as Ivan’s cock was pressed deep within the back of his throat, a deep aching sensation as he resisted the urge to make noise and squeal like a pig. Gilbert struggled to ground himself, grasping onto Ivan’s meaty thighs as he moved and his dick went with him, out of Gilbert’s reach He leaned forward to recapture it, frightened by the thought of Ivan thinking he wasn’t trying hard enough to please him. The angle was difficult but he could still suckle the head, lathing it with his tongue in tight circles. 

Feliciano heard the description and felt surprised. He assumed the two brothers must look similar but what Ludwig was describing was so strange to hear.

“Albino? What’s that, Ludwig?”

Ludwig ignored the question but Ivan tilted his head to take in the small man and responded. “He hasn’t even told you about that? You must not be very close then.” Feli felt himself shrink in shame. How was he supposed to know anything when Ludwig hardly let him in? 

Ivan turned his gaze back to Ludwig still holding him by his lapels. “If he was here, then by now he must be dead, he's gone. Move on, or you'll get nowhere in life. Take my word for it,” Ivan said with a self-satisfied smirk.

Ivan’s grin widened as he felt Gilbert’s attempt to continue the clandestine blowjob, couldn’t stop himself from chuckling in Ludwig’s face as he got angrier and angrier. If only he knew what was happening right beneath the surface. The irony was delicious.

“If you think for a second I’m gonna take your ‘word’, then-” Ludwig bristled, clenched his fist harder in the jacket. How could Ivan stay so calm? The smirk made him want to punch his teeth out. 

"Ah, ah, ah, remember, I still know your dirty little secret. You wouldn't want me to spread rumors now, would you?" Ivan continued to grin, baiting Ludwig and getting off on his impotent show of force. He wasn’t scared of him, not with his brother currently lapping against the tip of his dick. 

“R-rumours..?” Feliciano said with trepidation. He hovered behind Ludwig, the earlier frivolity between them evaporated and he was shocked to see this bitter, raging version of his partner. Surprised, and intrigued. He wanted to know, even with the thick pressure in the room, and he stepped forward a bit to hear more. 

"Oh, so you don't know? Ludwig here is a pervert. You should be wary of him.”

“P-pervert?” Feli stuttered, now even more interested in what Ivan had to say. 

“Don’t listen to him, he’s lying. Just like he did with my brother…”

“I’m not lying, Ludwig… You know what I’ve seen.” Ivan raised his hands and pulled Ludwig’s fist from his jacket, shoving him back. He settled back into his chair, spreading his legs again and sighing deeply, a strangely knowing smile on his lips. 

Ludwig felt the rage bubbling inside him, threatening to overflow, and when he saw Ivan smile again he couldn’t contain it. Ivan was hiding his brother from him and at that moment he didn’t care about blackmail, not with fury and alcohol firing through his brain. He wound his arm back cocking to throw a straight right punch right in Ivan’s smug face, but his elbow was caught by Feliciano before he could swing it forward. 

“Ludwig, no! Don’t! Come on, we’ll get in trouble!” 

“I don’t care!”

“Yes, yes you do! Remember? You said you did it for him! We need to find him, not start fights! If you get court-martialed you’ll never have the chance!” Feli said urgently, not bothering to add that it would mean he wouldn’t get a chance with Ludwig, which was the stronger motivating factor for him personally. Still, it was enough to bring some sense back to Ludwig and he lowered his fist slowly. He looked at Feliciano, and sighed heavily, something finally seemed to click. 

“This isn’t over Ivan…” 

“Yes, it is. There’s nothing for you in this lab. I wouldn’t allow it.” Ivan leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, the taunting smile never leaving him once. “Now, get out before I contact the guards who are _supposed_ to be patrolling this area.” 

Ludwig felt rooted to the spot, felt like something would snap if he left empty-handed again, facing a Gilbert-less world with no leads… Feliciano pulled at him again, urging him toward the door, and finally, he was able to move. The anger snuffed itself out without a target and instead turned all to hopelessness. By the time he made it out of the lab the anguish and the grief were lapping up his throat and he barely made it past the camp gates before the tears started gathering. Feli trotted behind him, trying to keep up and telling him to slow down but Ludwig couldn’t. If he stopped now he would be overwhelmed.

So when Feliciano grabbed his hand and forced him to stop Ludwig felt helplessness glom onto the hopelessness he was already drowning in and he shuddered as a deep chest sob burst past his defenses. He clapped a hand over his mouth, shaking as he held his breath to keep it all bottled inside. Feliciano stood in front of him, hands stroking up and down his arms, looking up into his face with concern. 

“H-hey, Ludwig, it’s okay… I’m here, I can help, alright? It’s okay, it’s okay...” Feli continued to murmur, trying to give him comfort, and slowly he wound two skinny arms around Ludwig’s broad shoulders and pulled him in so the blond was leaning over him, using his shoulder to cry on. The gentle touch forced another sob through Ludwig’s hand and once he was being held he couldn’t stop the torrent any longer. He grabbed Feliciano back, shuddered, wept, and tried to control his sobbing as he let himself go. 

They were in an abandoned street, no one around, but still, even in the depths of his grief, Ludwig felt ashamed that he couldn’t keep it together. That he was breaking down in front of his training partner, in the middle of the street, and no matter how embarrassing it was he just couldn’t make himself _stop_. Feli didn’t push him away though, just continued to hold him and rub his back and let him purge all the repressed emotions he’d been lugging with him with the thought of losing Gilbert completely... 

Ludwig didn’t know how long they stood there like that, but once the sobs stopped bucking his chest and he could get a breath in without shuddering, he pulled back and wiped his eyes on the back of his hand.

“I-I’m sorry… Feliciano, that you had to see me like this, it’s... “

“It’s fine. I’m glad I was here. I feel like I got to know you better.” 

Ludwig gave a weak, miserable chuckle. 

“You’re better off not knowing…” 

“Is it about what Ivan was saying?” Feli asked and Ludwig noticed he was still holding onto him. He stilled and looked Feli in the eyes, recognizing the gleam there. It startled Ludwig and he didn’t say anything. 

“Can I guess?” Feli asked, leaning in closer so their bodies were touching from top to bottom. And without waiting for a response, Feliciano rose on the balls of his feet to give him enough height to try and press his lips against Ludwig’s. 

Ludwig held him back, stopping him from completing the motion. 

“Wait… Feliciano, I, I’m not-”

“I think you are. Just let me in. Please, can’t you see it? We’re the same, Ludwig! It’s okay! I won’t tell anyone and then we can win this war!”

“It’s not that…” 

“Then what? Please, I want to help you.”

“Feli, you already are helping me,” Ludwig responded heavily, and instead of a kiss, he wrapped his arms around Feliciano to return the hug. He didn’t want to cover over his kiss from Gilbert, his last parting gift, but beyond that maybe Feliciano was right. If he couldn’t find Gilbert, he could still find release.

\----

Back in the lab, Ivan pulled Gilbert out from under the table and dragged him into his lap so they were face to face for once. Ivan stroked his cheek, smiling happily at him and the red over his cheeks, the tears, the mouth still hanging open from his previous task.

“You’ve done so well, my pet. I’m proud of you, you didn’t make a sound. I think that deserves a reward, don’t you?” Ivan asked demurely.

Gilbert’s knees almost gave out underneath him, his thin chest falling into Ivan’s broad, meatier one. It was almost comforting, even as his shoulders trembled as he fought the urge to sob.

“A-anything that makes you happy, D-daddy…”

Ivan’s chest rumbled with approval and he tightened his arms around Gilbert. 

“That’s the right answer, little one. Now, kiss Daddy.”

Gilbert sniffled, looking up at Ivan glumly as he brought their lips close, sucking on the Russian’s bottom lip. Ivan responded readily and took command of the kiss, sweeping his tongue into Gilbert’s mouth and entwining their tongues, lips working against his until Gilbert felt breathless. He couldn’t help falling into the kiss, so emotionally and physically exhausted, it felt nice despite everything. 

“Mmm, good boy,” Ivan said huskily. He glanced at a screen behind Gilbert and his smile turned sadistic again. “Oh, look… Your brother didn’t make it very far, did he?” He rearranged Gilbert easily, lifting him like a doll so he was facing the other direction in his lap. He could see the screen now, a grainy security camera feed showing the entrance to the camp. Ludwig was there, hunched over shaking and holding his companion. He was clearly crying.

“He looks so sad, doesn’t he? What do you think he would do if he knew how close you were, and yet you’ve never been more distant?” Ivan murmured.

Gilbert frowned, a solemn expression as his eyebrows pinched inward, a shaky hand reaching out towards the grey screen to caress the fine outline of Ludwig, his lips pulled down to the floor. Gilbert couldn’t replenish the deep ache inside of him as he had to simply let his little brother go, nobody was going to save him. Not even himself.

Gilbert whipped his head around to face Ivan, brushing a thin finger along his chest as he brought his lips too close, he needed anything to distract himself from the pain.

“Please fuck me, Daddy… I’m itching for you to be inside of me...” Gilbert said in his best sultry voice.

Ivan smiled broadly, satisfied to have severed their bond. His dog had been trained well.

“Of course, Gilbert. I’ll always take care of you,” Ivan replied, already tipping the albino forward so he had to catch himself against the desk, pulling the dildo out in the same motion. He trailed his hands down Gilbert’s back, shifting forward in his chair and ghosting his breath over Gilbert’s exposed hole. 

Ivan was so proud of it, stretched and smooth and pliable, he could take dick at any given moment. But now, he deserved something special for such a momentous occasion. Ivan slowly and methodically began to lap straight up along Gilbert’s crack, steady strokes of his tongue that dragged over his smooth hole. There was no fear of contaminants and so when Gilbert began to writhe, moan and move his hips back against his mouth, Ivan snaked his tongue inside and began moving in circular caresses, fucking him with his tongue.

Gilbert followed through, expecting to be filled with Ivan’s massive dick, but instead, he received a soft, wet, and hot… tongue? Gilbert’s eyes widened as his hole quivered at the unfamiliar sensation, thighs shaking as he grasped onto the desk.

“W-what are you doing?” Gilbert couldn’t help but ask, pinching his bottom lip. Ivan had never done this before.

Ivan didn’t stop to answer, however, instead just humming right into the warm cavity, lapping him from the inside out, rolling his tongue, and plunging in deeper. 

Gilbert couldn’t believe how amazing this felt, choking on his own pleasure induced moans as Ivan made him feel something entirely different. It was so good, almost too good; but he knew it wasn’t enough, they both knew it. The teasing pleasure wasn’t enough to push him to the edge.

“B-bitte, I want your big cock, D-daddy!”

Ivan chuckled and gave one last lick before standing up and sliding his ready cock into Gilbert like slipping a hand in a glove. Gilbert’s gasp of happiness filled Ivan with fierce and weighty pride and he wanted to hear more of it. He didn’t start fucking him right away, just hot and twitching inside him motionless. 

Gilbert’s mouth hung open and slack as Ivan granted his wish, but rather than moving; he stayed still, a high keening sound as Gilbert rolled his hips to soothe the deep itch inside of him, he wanted nothing more than to reach his own selfish pleasure. Gilbert was almost becoming an expert at knowing Ivan’s desires, but that’s when things became dangerous, thinking he knew his captive like the back of his hand. 

“Bitte, Daddy, m-more! I want more! Fuck me hard, Daddy!”

“As you wish…” Ivan began rocking his hips back and forth, cock leaving a hot trail inside him with every motion, slowly going faster and faster until Gilbert’s body was being rammed over the edge of the desk with him hanging on for dear life. 

The desk rocked violently as Gilbert was easily brought over to the edge, cum splattering against the side of the desk while he was fucked into oblivion. It was amazing how good Ivan could make him feel, turn his thoughts into mush no longer capable of worrying or hoping. No longer concerned with escaping, or even surviving this, simply pleasing Ivan was his only purpose for existing. 

\----

Elizaveta was getting very good at making herself inconspicuous. Her thick chestnut hair was tied up in a tight bun, a small brown cap covering the rest of her head. She kept her gaze down and her hands tucked together over her cinched grey skirt that ran down to her ankles. It was more modest than her usual fashion sense, but blending in and not being noticed was far more important to her now. 

Elizaveta used her shorter stature and the fact that most men ignore women to get close and listen in to conversations. She spent hours at the pubs and coffeehouses arranging herself discreetly near a group of Nazis and calmly read her book and sip her tea while memorizing every location, every time date, every act of war they committed and bragged about… She was sitting behind them taking notes in code, making it seem as if she were just drafting the first attempt at a poem while gathering information to pass on to the allies beyond their borders. 

After several weeks of gathering and sending information along, Elizaveta felt like it wasn’t enough anymore. She could do more, especially being inside and knowing where the trains were being loaded and where they were heading. When she overheard an opportunity to get inside a Nazi office she didn’t hesitate. 

She followed behind the men, close enough to the group to seem part of it, but far enough behind them for the men themselves not to notice. While they hung by the entrance she slipped down a side hall and into an office. She wore these colors on purpose, at a glance she blended right in with the office of secretaries and telegram operators sitting in long benches, tapping, and writing out messages. She knew not to hesitate, not to look confused, but move with a sense of authority. She found the head office and marched straight over to it, heart pounding from the exhilaration of spying and the fear of being caught. Right before she reached it she grabbed the fire alarm and pulled it as she passed by without pausing for an instant.

The alarms made everyone jump and start to scramble, the room, and halls filled with bodies and orders being yelled in frantic German. Eliza stayed pressed tight against the wall as others filed past her and once the stream thinned just a bit she made her way into the main office, surreptitiously grabbing stamps and other official-looking items off the desks. Brushing papers into her pockets as she strode by. She had sewn extra long thick pockets inside her dress, she could dump an entire sheaf of paper into the pockets if she wanted…. Which was exactly what she did in the confusion around the unknown source of the fire alarm ringing in the background. 

As she walked away from the scene she couldn’t help the small wry smile teasing the corner of her lip. By the time they figured out it was a false alarm and their attention turned to finding the one who’d pulled it after everyone was corralled back inside, Eliza was long gone. 

Back at their hidden base, Elizaveta showed Roderich her spoils. 

“Had a good day today, Roddy. Look at what I was able to get a hold of!” She stepped out of her long stiff dress to reveal a smaller, more flowy skirt underneath, and then grabbed the longer dress and upended it, dumping all the files, stamps, and papers she’d managed to snag on her way out. 

Roderich was flabbergasted and Eliza had a rare laugh at the look on his face. 

“But, h-how? These are official forms and stamps! You can’t find these except in a…” 

“In a Nazi headquarters? Yeah, where do you think I got them from?”

“But Eliza! That’s too dangerous! We’re already doing enough to save art and culture, and spreading the truth to people, but even that is dangerous! You know they would kill you if they caught you!” Roderick scolded as his fingers filtered through the sensitive files. Top secret. Life-threatening.

“But they didn’t catch me, and now, using these, we can help a lot more than just some old art. We can help get people out.” Eliza’s eyes glowed in the candlelight, fierce and manic and pleased with herself. Roderich decided not to push it. She had done it, hadn’t she? No point dousing her victory. And she was right, after all, using the forms and stamps she’d brought, they could easily forfeit papers to get families across the border. Help them escape as the nets closed in tighter. 

Roderich sighed, had to sit down and shake his head in wonder. 

“You’re quite a woman, Eliza… I don’t know many who could sneak in and out of a Nazi office like that and get away with it.” He bent down to pick up a paper and examine it further. “Well, we have the keys. Who do we unlock first?” 

\----

Gilbert was emotionally and physically exhausted after that night, even when Ivan seemed to push his body to its extreme limits. The days all blurred into one, there was no rigid system; but he knew the two feelings he often felt were pain and pleasure, sometimes one more than the other.

It was a confusing ordeal how he came to be here, even now; he remembered Ivan doing the sounding rod experiment again, crumbling under the immense pain-pleasure that had him in a completely submissive headspace in an instant.

It was often like that. The albino had quickly learned if he obeyed Ivan he would be rewarded, even treated nicer under extreme circumstances. Gilbert strived for that affection. Ivan especially liked it when Gilbert would cum with nothing touching his dick to get him there. Ivan’s stamina and self-control were astonishing, a frightening thing to witness on a daily basis, and so Gilbert had been forced to get better at making himself cum solely from Ivan’s dick in order to end it. There was never a day Gilbert wasn’t filled with Ivan’s juices. His mouth and hands used for vigorous training that left him doing the motions even when asleep, hand falling and raising, tongue restless in his mouth.

Turning himself over completely to Ivan’s whims and desires was easier than struggling, easier than remembering night after night, surrender was mercy. And it was all he had left. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buckle up buttercup, this chapter is intense. Also, this long scene is why this chapter ended up getting split so many times, haha. Reviews appreciated. :3

Ivan was pleased with Gilbert’s progress. He was being so much more docile and obedient compared to when he first arrived, with all the cursing and spitting. Now he knew the rules, did his best to follow them, and when he inevitably failed, he took his punishments so well. The way he cried and shuddered, those red eyes raw with tears, oh, Ivan couldn’t get enough of them. 

Breaking him down into his separate parts had been fun, and now he could play with the pieces all he wanted, stack him up before purposefully toppling him again. 

He’d left Gilbert in his submissive position overnight, neck chained to the floor with only a couple links of movement, arms cuffed in front of him, knees wide apart with a spreader bar, and his ass up in the air. The flared base of his latest dildo could be seen protruding there, ready to be yanked out and replaced with dick. But that would wait. For now, it was time to show off his little prize. 

“Hello guinea pig, feeling hungry?” 

Gilbert responded to Ivan without any conviction, voice expressionless, and monotone as he kept his eyes lowered. He felt exhausted and numb.

“Please Daddy, all I want to eat is your dick.”

Ivan smiled at how glumly he said it. There was the rule of the law which he technically was following, but there was still the spirit of the law which Ivan found to be sorely lacking. 

“Pathetic. Can’t you give me a little more passion than that, hmm Gil?” Ivan asked, kneeling next to him, tapping the dildo base in his ass. “Do I have to wring it out of you?” 

Gilbert flinched as the dildo rubbed against his prostate, biting his lip hard as he met Ivan’s eyes; eye’s that Gilbert found little sanctuary in. 

“P-please, Daddy” Gilbert emphasized with a needy voice. “All I want to eat is your dick, p-please.”

“That’s better. Do it that way first next time.” Ivan unclipped his collar from the floor, helped him sit up so he could sit back on his heels. Ivan looked over his body, taking in the changes he’d slowly molded over time. He was so much thinner, still, that perfect pale pigment-less skin and Ivan distracted himself by running his hands across Gilbert’s chest. He’d lost definition in his pecs, everything shrinking from lack of use, being stuck in awkward positions for hours at a time, but it just made Ivan feel more powerful next to him. Ivan rubbed his skin, lingering on a nipple which he rolled absentmindedly, pinching it hard without response, then harder again and again. 

Gilbert followed the motion as Ivan helped him sit back on his ankles, helping him keep his body upright as the man began to smother his chest and nipples, despite being used to such rough treatment, Gilbert’s nipples rarely ever got the brunt end of the stick. He knew better than to complain however and kept his mouth firmly shut even when it hurt.

“I’ll give it to you, but first-” Ivan reached toward Gilbert’s face, intending to stroke down his jawline, his other hand still crushed the bud of Gilbert’s nipple, turning a dusty pink from the rough handling. The albino held himself rigid, Ivan knew he didn’t like his nipples being rubbed raw but he wouldn’t dare make a peep about it. He uncuffed Gilbert’s hands, released him from the spreader bar, and watched intently as Gilbert let out a shaky breath and brought his legs together for the first time in hours. 

“T.. thank you, Daddy…”

Ivan smiled in approval. Even completely unbound Gilbert sat kneeling and obedient, waiting for the next command. He was finally trained and ready for display. 

“Turn around for me,” Ivan said and watched as Gilbert shuffled on his knees so he faced away from Ivan, baring his back to him. He kneeled down and carefully undid the leather collar around his neck, the one restraint that was always left on, no matter what else kept happening to Gilbert. 

Gilbert flinched, confused as the material around his neck was lifted.

What…. What was going on?

“Toris, you can bring the wheelchair in now,” Ivan called over his shoulder, slipping the collar into his lab coat pocket. The assistant came around the corner pushing a wheelchair, one that Gilbert was familiar with. He looked nervous which was normal, but he was also wearing a button-down shirt beneath the lab coat, far more formal than anything he usually wore. Ivan was also wearing a nicer shirt, though it wasn’t as stuffy as Toris’. 

Gilbert tried to understand what was going on, he couldn’t help but feel something was off. 

Why was Ivan wearing that, why was his collar removed? It felt strange not to have it, itching for it to be placed back where it belonged. However, he didn’t; the fear he felt kept him still, the uncertainty of what was going to happen. That was when the trembling started.

Ivan smiled as he noticed the way Gilbert shivered and placed a hand on his head to rub it reassuringly. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll put it back on when we’re done.” Ivan stood and lifted him to his feet, ushering him to sit in the wheelchair. He clapped handcuffs on him once again, each thin wrist shackled to the metal arm of the chair. “We’re just going to go visit our benefactors,” Ivan said as he grasped the chair and began to wheel him out of the lab room and down the halls.

Benefactors? What the hell did Ivan mean by that? Was that some new code word for his demise? But why- why? He’d been so good, he’d given up everything for Ivan.

Now… he was going to be thrown away and left for dead?

Ivan pushed Gilbert down several hallways, up an elevator, and then through more nondescript office cubicles until they approached a large wooden double door in the heart of the building. Toris walked behind them, carrying tapes and binders and a bulky briefcase. They could hear the murmur of male voices behind the door, impossible to tell how many. Ivan stepped around the chair to tower over Gilbert, he tilted his head up so he could stare down into the wide red eyes. 

“Listen to me Gilbert, you will not embarrass me in front of these men. You will be silent, you will be still, and you will be obedient to my every word. Understand?”

The further Ivan led Gilbert into the labyrinth of hallways, the build-up agonizing as the chains were a reminder that he had nowhere to go. Couldn’t run, even if he tried to. Their eyes met and Gilbert could hear voices from the door before him, a haunting expression on Ivan as he felt the words spilling from his mouth as he watched his lips move, silent? Embarrass? Gilbert couldn’t hold it in any longer, he had to know, he wanted to know.

“A… am... I… going to d-die…?” 

Gilbert’s voice trembled, his large doe-like eyes staring above Ivan, expecting some sort of answer. 

Ivan’s calm demeanor changed in an instant, face-pulling back in a snarl, his lilac eyes flashing as the hand tilting his head up immediately grabbed him by the throat instead, his other hand shoving between his legs to grab him by the balls, squeezing both of his hands hard.

“What did I  _ just  _ say? Silence!” Ivan hissed.

Gilbert’s body seized with pain, his body snapping taut as a spring as his balls suffered Ivan’s blunt nails. This had to be it, he was done for! Tears sprung within the corners of his eyes as he nodded frantically, or at least tried to for that matter; toes curling and hips wiggling as Ivan kept a tight hold of his balls, leaving him gasping for breath that couldn’t reach his lungs, the specific pain made him feel nauseous.

He was definitely going to die if it wasn’t here, it would be inside that room!

Ivan watched as Gilbert writhed and panted, and most importantly stayed silent as he nodded. He gave a final cruel squeeze and then let go, pulling his hands back and standing up. 

“Don’t forget, silence.” Ivan turned and knocked on the door. The talking paused and a commanding voice bid them enter. Ivan pulled both doors open to reveal a conference room with a long wooden table in the center, over a dozen men sitting around it with cigarette smoke hanging thickly in the air. Maps of Europe and Germany hung on all the walls and at the head of the table, flanked by two soldiers in the corner, sat a man everyone could recognize. Their Nazi leader, Hitler himself. 

“Welcome, Braginski. I see you have brought a...hm, patient, here with us today. Why is that?” Hitler reclined in his chair, brushing his cigarette against the ashtray to watch it fall. “I do hope it’s for good reason,” he snapped. There was enough on his plate already. 

Ivan just smiled politely back and wheeled Gilbert into the crowded claustrophobic space. Toris followed and closed the heavy doors behind him, sealing them all into the warm box of a room. He silently went about his business, opening the briefcase and pulling out a projector, and proceeding to set it up. Ivan parked Gilbert right at the foot of the table, opposite Hitler and every head in the room was swiveled in their direction. 

“Gentlemen, thank you for your time. I’m sure you’ll find this demonstration enticing. I have been working for many months now to isolate the gene that causes albinism and create a way to inject the defect into healthy genes. If we can weaponize it and reduce our enemies to this -” Ivan gestured at Gilbert as if it was obvious how weak and pathetic he was, “Then we will have a clear advantage.” 

Hitler raised a thick eyebrow, almost laughing in mockery at Ivan’s work. “Advantage? You call that, an advantage? He’s nothing but skin and bones.”

“It’s a weakness we can use. I have already created the technology. Gentlemen, please, take a look at what happens when you expose a person lacking pigment to concentrated radiation. Toris, the lights,” Ivan snapped. 

Toris flicked off the lights and Ivan turned on the projector, light spewing forth over the wall behind Gilbert, shining directly over him so he cast a shadow halfway up the wall. Ivan loaded the film reel and set the machine spinning as images and sickening sounds began to coat the room. 

Gilbert remembered those cries, those cries that called for help and desperation, and had been etched into his nightmares ever since. He remembered how Rosé clung to the cylinder as she clawed at it, watching her skin melt through her bones… Gilbert couldn’t fathom it, didn’t want to hear any more of it as he tried to reach for his ears but found himself tugging on the shackles instead. 

It didn’t stop the tears almost breeching as the recording of Rosé let out a blood-curdling scream, Gilbert’s body sagging forward as he tried to dissociate himself.

Hitler leaned forward, propping up his elbows on the table as he watched the gruesome experiment unfold before his eyes; yet, he couldn’t seem to help his eyes as they wandered to the little guinea pig shivering in the wheelchair. It was more out of amusement than anything.

“So, what does this have to do with him?” Hitler enquired, he had never seen a living, breathing albino before… and to witness one in person was something rare to behold.

“As you can see, Fuhrer, he is albino. But he was not born this way. I have found a way to introduce albinism into healthy individuals.” 

Hitler’s eyebrows went up towards the sun.

“Tell me his name again.”

“Patient 20925, formerly known as Gilbert Belischmidt.”

Hitler stood from his seat, wanting to inspect this patient up close. Within a few strides, Hitler was in front of Gilbert. His last name seemed familiar...

“Gilbert Belischmidt, hm? That name rings a bell, do you have a brother perhaps?” Hitler asked, reaching for Gilbert’s chin so their eyes could meet. Hitler tilted Gilbert’s head from side to side, entranced by his eyes.

Gilbert shook his head, the white strands of his hair dancing.

Ivan ruffled Gilbert’s hair affectionately. 

“He has no family, sir. They’re all dead. Isn’t that right Gilbert?” 

Another nod.

“Does he not speak?” 

“No sir, his vocal cords have been cut.”

Hitler hummed, leaning close into the patient’s personal bubble as he inspected his hair, plucking a silver strand from the crown of his head. 

Gilbert tensed, Ivan hadn’t done that -- but to hear it from his mouth caused him to panic, especially with the man causing so many deaths rightening him right up close. 

“Shame. You will be a great contribution to our country, Gilbert Beilschmidt. Marvelous work, Braginski. I’ll ensure more funds are further invested in this project. I want more of this secret ingredient.” 

Ivan bowed slightly. “Thank you, Fuhrer.” 

Between Hitler himself looking him over like livestock, the intense gazes of all the other powerful men in the room, Ivan hovering behind him, the fear of death suffusing every fiber of his being, Gilbert couldn’t stop it before it already started happening - a warm sensation pooling around his wet thighs, the trembling uncontrollable as the man leaned back.

All it took was one sniff and Hitler reclined back, nose brushing the air as he looked at the patient with something akin to anger and irritation. The smell of piss was horrendous.

“Get him out of here, _ now _ !” Hitler yelled, going off with a string of German curses. 

Ivan’s face had darkened, a quietly dark storm brewing there as he glared at Gilbert for wetting himself in terror. 

“Yes, sir…” Ivan said slowly, wheeling Gilbert out of the room and snapping at Toris to stay and clean up the mess. Once out of the room he strode with Gilbert fast down the hall, livid lava boiled just beneath the surface. It had been going so well, and then for Gilbert to embarrass him like that, in front of Hitler no less, his mind was racing, what to do about it? He still got the support he wanted but his reputation had been tarnished, which was the far worse crime. 

Gilbert couldn’t have been ever more grateful to leave that smoke-filled room, the piss between his legs growing quickly cold as Ivan steered him down the hall, unaware of the storm above him. 

“W-why did you make me go through that again? W-why? W-why was  _ he  _ in there?” Gilbert found his voice, strained and pitiful, fat tears rolling down his sharp cheekbones.

“Silence,” Ivan growled “Or I really will cut your vocal cords.” He said it in such a dangerous tone, there was no doubt he fully meant it. 

Gilbert shook like a leaf in the wind, they were going to use him as a war machine? How was that even possible? And Rosé, sweet, little Rosé, her screams burned his ears as he felt himself spiral down in an unstoppable circle of panic. 

However, his voice strained, choked on his words as he feared the worst of Ivan’s threat would become a reality… 

“H-h-help! Help!!” Gilbert wasn’t even sure who the hell he was crying for help for, but he was. It was desperate, instinctual. Anyone,  _ please _ . Gilbert frantically swung his legs, tugging on the chains locking him down.

He didn’t want to die!

Ivan slapped a hand over Gilbert’s mouth, crushing him to the back of the chair as he continued to wheel him quickly through the lab until finally, they were back in the examination room that had served as Gilbert’s home for the past 6 months. Before doing anything else he immediately put the collar back on and then began to unchain Gilbert from the chair, flinging him out of it to the tiled floor as soon as he was loose.

“No one is coming to help you, you’re not worthy to be saved. The only reason you’re allowed to live is because of your defect. And if you won’t obey me, then your body is the only thing useful to me. Shall I drain all your blood? Tap your marrow and suck that out too? Dissect you while you’re still breathing? Would you prefer that, Gilbert?” Ivan stepped closer and closer as he spoke until he kneeled and gripped Gilbert by his jaw, hand half-covering his face as he crushed his fingers into his skin. 

The albino wasn’t sure why Ivan had gotten his fingers so close to his mouth, but they were; and as his terror spiked, Gilbert instinctively clamped down on the digits, hearing them crush and pop in his mouth, a strange sound he couldn’t quite place as he tasted bitter iron.

Ivan gave a surprised shout, ripping his hand back from Gilbert. His teeth dragged and tore on the way out, leaving several trenches on the back of Ivan’s hand which now throbbed mightily, the tendons strained and sore and blood trickled from the deepest teeth marks. Without a single moment’s hesitation, Ivan automatically let his left-hand fly and backhanded Gilbert soundly across the face, slapping him back down to the ground.

“How dare you- You-” Ivan shook, his eyes flaring toxic purple and his voice low with rage. “I’m disappointed. Looks like I didn’t leave a strong enough impression; and here I thought I could start showing you some tenderness, but no. You had to go and bite the hand that feeds you. Stupid dog. Toris, you can leave that. He doesn’t deserve it,” Ivan said to Toris who just arrived at the room carrying Gilbert’s regular IV bag. 

“No, we’ve got to put him to use differently.” Ivan pulled at the dildo still stuck up his ass, grabbing it and wrenching it out abruptly. “He wants more. Don’t you? Why else would you act so rude.” He took out an even larger one, the size of it comparable to a human speared hand. Ivan shoved it hard against Gilbert’s stretched opening, forcing it even wider than it had already been. He didn’t go slow, didn’t wait for him to adjust, just rammed it in using brute force. 

Gilbert regretted hurting Ivan as he fell to the floor from the abrasive impact, his face was on fire and he was seeing stars despite his eyes being open. Gilbert whimpered before a strangled moan left his mouth as Ivan forcefully rammed the frighteningly large dildo inside of him, wanted to deeply express his apology before his white hair was grabbed in a vicious hold, causing Gilbert to cry out loud and tense violently as he held onto Ivan’s hand, wailing, clawing.

“N-nien, nien! Bitte,  _ bitte! _ I-I didn’t mean to! I just got scared, Daddy,  _ please!  _ I-I’m sorry! _ ” _

Ivan grabbed his head up from the floor, dragging him back up to his knees by his hair, immune to his tears and whining. Without letting go of his hair Ivan forced him up to his feet roughly. 

“You don’t deserve all the kindness I give you. All the food, the medicine, the roof over your head. All of that goes away now. You’re  _ done _ . You had your chance to be good and you chose to spit it in my face.” Ivan began marching them down through the lab, Gilbert barely able to walk with the dildo in his ass as he was dragged along the floor.

Gilbert couldn’t keep up with the pace and he was terrified, sobbing uncontrollably as his legs flailed to keep up with him, scraping against the tiled floor.

“Please, please, Daddy! I didn’t mean to! Please!”

Ivan ignored his cries, took him straight through the back of the building through a set of double doors, into the outside. There wasn’t much behind the back of the buildings, just utilities, a generator, a dumpster, all of it backed up against a chain-link fence rimmed with circles of razor wire. A few empty chicken battery cages were lying next to the dumpster, still caked with fowl droppings and blood from the slaughter, and he dragged Gilbert over to it. He wrenched the top open, and before Gilbert could say anything he kicked his legs out from under him, slamming his naked body to the ground. 

“Get in,” Ivan ordered coldly. 

The light stung his eyes and he didn’t have time to adjust to anything as he felt the earth beneath him giveaway, the impact making Gilbert breath cut short as all he could see was a small cage, something that a human couldn’t  _ fit  _ inside as he scrambled to his knees with blind panic, he didn’t mean hurting Ivan - he didn’t mean it! 

“Daddy, please, please, I didn’t mean to hurt you! Please, have mercy!” Gilbert cowered, trembling in fear as he grasped onto Ivan’s pant leg with desperation. 

“Get in. Now,” Ivan repeated, his voice going even softer and colder. Unmoved by the groveling, the protesting. It would have been a worthy performance before, but now all Ivan could hear was the blood rushing in his ear, the need to control, dominate and put Gilbert in his place overwhelming every other response. 

Gilbert shook his head, his white hair dancing as he clung onto Ivan for dear life. “No, no! Please, please, Daddy, Daddy! I’ll be a good dog, I-I promise!” Gilbert shouted frantically, head burrowing deeper into Ivan’s shoes.

Ivan wasn’t going to repeat himself. The refusal to move, even if it was based on fear, was still unacceptable. He jerked his boot away from Gilbert’s clutching hands, swung his leg back, and landed a kick hard against Gilbert’s ribs, strong enough to fling him back and slam against the cage itself. 

Gilbert’s bark of pain didn’t stop him, he kicked again, this time in his stomach which knocked the air right out of him. Gilbert collapsed, wheezing, a line of blood leaking from the corner of his mouth. Ivan grabbed him and began shoving him into the tiny wired cage, getting his head and shoulders in before he began scraping the skin off. He continued to push, strain, and fold Gilbert into the chicken cage. 

Gilbert felt breathless as Ivan began the painful process of shoving him into that awful cage that could barely fit a child, let alone a grown adult - but Ivan made it happen as the thin cutting wire pierced his skin, his face getting the worst bite of it as he tried to keep still, but Ivan kept pushing and  _ pushing _ . Gilbert sobbed as his body managed to fold itself in. 

Gilbert was cramped on his knees with his face pressed tightly against the wire with his ass exposed- suffering much like his face. The albino couldn’t move, for if he did, the pain would ensnare him as he felt blood trickling, tears streaming down his face as he couldn’t bear the smell of stale blood, pissed how cramped and enclosed he felt. How long was Ivan going to leave him in here!? Gilbert heard the rustling of a key locking, before silence; Gilbert didn’t want to be in this cage, everything, everything  _ hurt. _

“Ivan?! P-please, don’t leave me! Ivan!  _ IVAN _ !” Gilbert couldn’t see if Ivan was still there or not, couldn’t hear him.

Ivan listened to the panicked begging, the crying, admired the way his skin oozed with blood between the wires, pressed so tight they bit into him. With him locked in Ivan grabbed the corner of the cage and dragged it away from the dumpster and into the center of the yard, no shade reached anywhere close to him. His skin was scraped along as the bottom was moved, no way to avoid road rash from the way Ivan hauled it roughly along the ground. 

He dropped him in the center of the backlot, kicked the bars so the whole thing rattled and vibrated loudly. 

Ivan didn’t say anything, didn’t give him a rule to think about or a way to prove himself. Didn’t give a time frame or a way out. As far as he was concerned Gilbert could stay in that cage until he rotted in the sun. His right hand still throbbed from where the albino had bitten him, his dominant hand, his surgery hand, and Ivan could only hold himself back from murder because he knew he’d regret it later. Ivan strode inside, ignoring the terrified screams behind him, and slammed the doors as he went. 

He wanted Gilbert to suffer for his defiance. 

Gilbert wailed with pain at the abuse as Ivan dragged the cage along the floor, his ass burning as the plug managed to stay inside  _ somehow _ . The heavy hand was gone for a moment, and Gilbert could already feel the blistering heat from the burning sun as he laid there out in the open. 

The albino heard Ivan’s footsteps going further and further away and before Gilbert managed to call for the Russian man, a pitiful sob left his lips. Everything ached, and who knew how long Ivan was going to leave him out here. Gilbert’s heart raced, his ribs showing along the stretched skin. There was no point in asking for any God, for any help, savior. Nothing reached beyond Ivan’s clutches.

\----

Toris stood still inside the backdoor of the lab and watched through the small square window as Ivan took Gilbert out by his hair, tripped him, and then paused for a moment before he kicked him viciously several times. Toris flinched at the sight and looked away feeling sick. Ivan didn’t need to use his fists or kicks, he could intimidate in so many other ways. The fact he was being so brutal meant he must have been pissed. 

Toris took a shuddering breath and peeked out again, afraid that he was about to see Gilbert’s dead body being thrown into the dumpster. Instead, he saw him being forced into a laughably small chicken crate, though the situation wasn’t funny at all. Toris gulped sick dread in his stomach and watched as Gilbert was dragged into the hot morning sun, dropped, and left there without a word. Ivan strode back towards the door and Toris jumped back, held himself at attention down the hall as expected of him. When Ivan burst through he looked no less angry, fumes still rising from him as he steamed. He glared at Toris who shriveled smaller in his lab coat.

“Come with me,” Ivan said, not breaking his fast stride. “You’re on guinea pig duty. No food, no water, no shade. Don’t talk to him, don’t look at him, don’t let him see you. Once a day you go out there and give him something to drink from this.” Ivan placed a yellow sponge in Tori’s palm, “But for the first 24 hours I want no contact whatsoever.”

Toris paused, feeling overwhelmed to be the prison guard suddenly. 

“How can I… without him seeing me?” Toris asked meekly, squeezing the sponge nervously. 

“You’re the one with a master’s degree, figure it out,” Ivan replied gruffly. He went back to the sink and worked up a thick lather, thoroughly washing the bite. He pulled gauze and antibiotic ointment from a drawer, applied it, and began to wrap the deep wound. 

Toris knew it was stupid to poke Ivan when he was in a mood like this, but he couldn’t stop himself. That damnable sympathy that he could never quite stomp out, that always managed to get him in trouble. 

“W-when do you think he can come out, s-sir?” Toris asked, hating the involuntary waver in his voice. 

“When he’s suffered enough,” Ivan replied without turning, still focused on his hand. 

Toris bowed, though Ivan wasn’t looking to see, and scooted backward through the door, walking back down the hall. He looked out the back door again, watched the early sun bake the cement, and Gilbert on it. It was hard to tell a person was there, it didn’t look like he could fit, but Toris knew nonetheless. Soon it would be blistering hot out there. 

He wanted to go out and see him, say something, but Ivan’s rules staked him in place. He knew the price to be paid for disobeying a direct order. His hips instinctively pulled inward, his shrunken parts shriveling up and he held back a whimper as the lucid memory of surgical punishment intruded to the front of his mind. The old terror of Ivan hovering between his thighs with a tight constricting band around his sac, a silver scalpel in his hands, a demonic grin upon his face… Toris stopped moving and had to hold himself for a moment, wrapping arms around himself and leaning against the wall as he waited for the unwanted flashback to fade away. 

He couldn’t defy Ivan, not again. He only had one left. No, he would have to wait until his once a day chance to give Gilbert comfort. He looked at the sponge in his hands, wondered how he could load it with even more water, and went off to his workbench to figure something out. He knew it was pointless, that Gilbert was going to suffer no matter what he did, but at least he might take his mind off it by building something. 

He looked through his supplies and found some long coils of heavy-duty wire, the perfect thing to wrap around a pass over a waterlogged sponge. Toris was already thinking of ways he could bend Ivan’s rules, maybe bring a bucket to re-soak it several times? He said once a day contact but not for how long or that he couldn’t bring extra.

Toris knew he would be in trouble if he was caught. If Ivan said no drinking, this sponge was his only chance for hydration, not a cup he could refill over and over. But he hadn’t said how long… It could be days for all he knew. A sponge simply wasn’t going to cut it. Gilbert deserved better than to be baked and dehydrated to death. 

Toris shook his head, feeling helpless to rescue his friend.

\---

Roderich looked at his bed with a deep scowl, a Nazi uniform spread out upon it. 

“Elizaveta, do you think this is going to work? What if they have a code or the uniform has changed…” Roderich asked hesitantly.

“Why? Change your mind about the mission?”

“N-no… I just really don’t want to wear that,” Roderich admitted glumly before sighing. 

“I know, it’s disgusting but I swear I got all the blood out, see?” Elizaveta picked up the jacket and flipped it over, running her fingers across the subtle stitching in the back where a knife had been stabbed. 

Roderich rolled his eyes, remembering how it felt jabbing the blade into the Nazi’s back, the spurt and crunch, and gurgle as he went down. 

“You know the blood doesn’t bother me. It’s what it stands for.” 

“Yeah, I know. But we have to do something. They can’t just keep taking our people! You want to go over it from the top?”

“No, I know what to do. I’m not worried about that, I’m worried about what I’m going to see inside there. What if I can’t keep it together?” 

“Then you turn yourself to stone Roderich. Shut it down, ground yourself, and breathe. I can’t afford to lose you too,” she said fiercely. “And any information you bring out will help us save more from going in there in the first place. We can’t do much for those already there…” 

“I know. That’s what’s going to be so hard about it…” He muttered in reply.

\---

Gilbert wasn’t too sure how long it had already been, as beads of sweat began to pool within the crack of his backside as his body trembled, from the heat and pressure his knees had to withhold. Everything  _ hurt _ . Even if he moved just an inch, another cut would be split open, his arms, legs, knees felt numb. His ankles and arms are going blue and purple from being in the restricted position for so long.

There never seemed to be a peaceful moment for Gilbert, as his limbs were screaming with tension he wriggled his toes, sighing shallowly as he licked his cracked lips, his throat feeling dry and parched from all the screaming. 

Was Ivan seriously going to leave him to shrivel up and die out here, alone? The moment Ivan had started shoving and pushing Gilbert into the cage he had never been more  _ sorry _ . The fear of death was overwhelming for the albino, but if Ivan had threatened this would happen to him; he would have not overreacted... 

Gilbert truly regretted it; couldn’t even bring himself to believe that it was Ivan’s fault - it was his, for he put himself in this situation that could have gone away if he just hadn't done  _ that _ . Gilbert was filled with a heavy heart and regret as he was left with his dark, unpleasant thoughts. 

The only macabre, yet positive highlight Gilbert could think about was being outside for the first time in months. The sky blue reminded him of someone, someone blond, a broad smile that made Gilbert feel proud and ashamed all at once. A man he was proud of and hadn’t found himself thinking of at all the last few months.

“Ludwig…” Gilbert whispered. He would do anything to be with him again, had he truly deserved to be condemned to death like this? Gilbert ground his teeth as he felt his face leaning deeper into the wire, blood pooling from his cheeks and ass in long thin cuts and streaks. 

Gilbert remembered the first time he disobeyed the large Russian man as the sun burned his ass. He had punched Ivan's nose, finding the slick pop incredibly satisfying as he could hear faint laughter echo in his ears, was that his? Gilbert wasn’t too sure, but the albino often found himself comforted with delirious visions of the past that brought him mind-numbing comfort. 

While his body burned and bled his mind wandered back to the coffeehouse, the wintry windswept streets of Berlin back when he was still free, sitting in the pub with his friends - his brother, laughing together with them.

Gilbert sighed, his eyes unseeing behind the wires of the death camp. It was mesmerizing to watch the trees waving beyond the fenceline, a great distraction from the pain as the leaves rustled occasionally with much-needed wind. They looked like they were dancing. The sun burned a little bit less the more he thought about death. 

Eventually, excruciatingly, night descended and it was just as unforgiving for Gilbert.

It was cold, dark; the wind howled in his ears as his teeth chattered violently, his naked skin raising with goosebumps. Being out here, there was just no balance. It was one extreme to the other and Gilbert was  _ suffering _ in his miserable shell of a body. The same repetitive futile thought pounded in his head - when was this hell going to end? At some point during the day, Gilbert conceded, rather than surviving this he just wanted a simple, clean death. A bullet to the back of the head, perhaps? Would that be too much to ask? It was all Gilbert found himself obsessively thinking about as the sun began to peer above the horizon once more. He hadn’t slept for a single minute.

Dawn crept up slowly, agonizingly ticking the time, and before it had made it to the horizon the back doors to the lab opened and shut softly. 

Toris crept out and tiptoed toward Gilbert, trying not to make a sound. He carried a small canteen in his coat pocket along with the sponge and wire. Ivan had said once a day, but not when. He wanted a moment alone with Gilbert and it was early enough he hoped he wouldn’t be caught. 

He approached from behind, knowing he was breaking Ivan’s rule about not talking to him, but he thought it would be fine this early. No one was around yet. 

“Gilbert- hey, Gilbert! It’s me… Can you hear me?”

“Nnnn….” Gilbert wasn’t too sure if he was awake or asleep, but he recognized that voice. A brief light of hope within his dark tunnel. 

“That.. you, Toris…?” Gilbert didn’t give the man a chance to speak, for he didn’t know when he would see another person again. “Bitte, kill me, save me from this hh-hell.”

“Oh, Gilbert… What has he done to you?” Toris fell to his knees, feeling sick seeing the state of Gilbert. He was covered in scabbed cuts, many of them still bleeding. His stretched skin poked through the grate and Toris could see how blistered and red and raw he was beneath. He was sweating and wheezing softly, even in the cool dawn air, Toris knew he’d been sunstroked. He wouldn’t last another day without water. Hell, he wouldn’t last another day, period.

He wanted to pour the canteen straight into Gilbert’s mouth, but it couldn’t fit through the bars. Ivan had been right, no cup would work. Toris shook his head in despair, sympathy, and poured water into the sponge, letting it take as much as it could hold before pressing it to Gilbert’s mouth which was still squeezed hard against the wires. 

“Here, drink. I have more here,” Toris said, trying to keep the tremble from his voice. He wasn’t the one suffering here, Gilbert shouldn't have to deal with his feelings on top of everything. 

Gilbert struggled to slurp up the water, a lot of it dripping down his chin as he let out a sob, whenever he moved his lips there was no escape from the knife’s sharp edge cutting in deep. His lips felt crusty, blistered, chapped, and torn.

“K… kill… me..” Gilbert whispered.

Toris paused to lean closer, no longer caring if Ivan saw him or not. 

“What is it Gilbert?” 

“Kill me, kill me damn it!” He whispered harshly.

“W-what? I couldn’t… Gilbert, it’s not going to be forever-”

“ _ When _ ?”

“I don’t know, I tried to ask and he wouldn’t say…”

“You motherfucking bastard!”

Toris felt his heart rend at the sad plea, the need to escape pain so desperate and broken he no longer wanted to exist.

“Gilbert, I’m sorry, I can’t… I’m sorry…I’m so sorry…” Toris repeated, feeling helpless.

“You motherfucking COWARD!  _ COWARD _ !” Gilbert hollered.

Toris fell backward, surprised by the force of his voice. It had taken everything in him he could tell, ribs rising and falling in a panic, eyes wide and crazed. He felt everything in him dissolving and swimming. He knew he was a coward, he knew he was weak, but what did Gilbert expect him to do? 

He stood up and backed away, feeling even worse than when he first came out. 

“I’m sorry Gilbert…” He said a final time before turning and running away from the horror. Running away from his request, his pain, running away from his fear. 

Gilbert continued to scream until he no longer could, his voice breaking and cracking as it began to extinguish like a blazing flame being smothered out by a landslide of exhaustion. 

Toris ran inside and slammed the doors behind him, terrified and forgetting about Ivan for a moment. 

Ivan. He was one with the key. Figuratively and literally. 

Toris felt like crawling out of his skin, Gilbert’s words kept ringing in his head and he knew he had to do something. Even if he was punished, even if he was hurt, it was better than leaving Gilbert in such a state. He couldn’t face the sun again. Toris gathered his fraying nerves and took a huge shuddering breath. Time to face Ivan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 6 is a two-parter! The next section will go up later today.


	7. Chapter 7

Ivan was in his room, already dressed for the day, and writing notes at his desk when he heard the knock on the door. 

Surprising. They knew not to disturb him. He ignored it, giving whoever it was a chance. But when the door handle began to turn he signed deeply, irritated, and stood up to scold whoever dared disturb him. He raised his grey eyebrows when he saw it was Toris. 

Well-trained, predictable Toris. What was he doing here? 

“This better be good, Toris,” Ivan said, voice low with the threat. 

Toris swallowed nervously as he felt himself cower in the face of the devil himself, but Gilbert’s pained voice compelled him to act as he bowed his head respectfully. 

“S-sir! Ivan g-good morning. It’s about Gilbert - I think we should release him. If he stays out there a day longer, he _will_ die. Please, Ivan-- S-Sir, Gilbert doesn’t deserve t-this. Please, have some _compassion!_ ”

“Your lack of faith in my doctoring expertise is insulting Toris. I’m not going to let him die,” Ivan replied, allowing the conversation. Rarely did Toris ever stand up to him, never did his green eyes gleam with this many transparent emotions. 

Toris remained tense; Ivan was unpredictable, him saying something was one thing but his actions were another. Toris stared into Ivan’s eyes, searching for _something._

“S-sir, he pleads for _death.”_

Ivan paused, not exactly surprised by the revelation but it didn’t concern him either. Wanting to die and being allowed to die were two different things. Still… It was fairly early for him to be at that stage. Maybe the sun treatment was just too harsh on his albino nature. Ivan sighed, mulling it over. 

Still, another important detail that didn’t escape him needed to be addressed. 

“I told you not to talk to him,” Ivan said, stroking his chin thoughtfully. 

Toris felt himself shrinking, felt his knees turning inward, he knew how weak he looked. “I’m not going to lie to you, Ivan. I’m sorry. I did talk to Gilbert but it was only because he’s dying. _Please,_ can’t you do this one, humane act and release him?”

Ivan had to admit he was impressed with the shorter man. He’d lost that determination months ago he thought. 

“Would you be willing to take his place, Toris? Because someone has to finish out his sentence. Maybe we can convince Ravis and Feliks to take a shift, sound nice?” Ivan asked, not really meaning the threat, just liked the feeling of knocking Toris down some, set him off balance. 

Ivan didn’t wait for him to answer, already turning back to his notes. 

“No, he has to stay I’m afraid. And don’t bother going back out there. I’m going to take care of him myself from now on. Understand?” 

Toris curled his hands into fists as he felt the blood pumping in his ears, he knew he couldn’t talk Ivan into it, or even shed any violence - but Toris could defy him in another way. 

“Yes, sir..” Toris replied with downcast eyes, already calculating how to circumvent the order. 

The Lithuanian turned sharply on his heel to hurry back to his lab to scrounge for a serum that would put Gilbert out of his misery. It would be fast, silent, untraceable, and it would set Gilbert free as he so desperately deserved. Toris couldn’t just sit, wait and watch for Ivan to say it was okay to release Gilbert while his friend begged for death. Toris wouldn’t even want to wish that upon his worst of enemies, not even Ivan. 

Once back in the lab Toris found a glass bottle and fished around for a packaged sterile needle. It took a brief moment to connect and adjust the needle, inserting it through the rubber top of the bottle and drawing up the yellow-tinged liquid - lethal poison.

Toris nodded as he recapped the needle, quickly and carefully making his way to the back of the building, towards where Gilbert was held captive, where he was strung out on the thin strand between life and death. Toris slipped out the back doors quietly and muffled the sound of them shutting as he exhaled nervously. Sweat beaded down his forehead as he approached Gilbert's cage, the metal trap which would become his coffin. This was the least Toris could do for Gilbert, he had no other choice. Ivan was a cruel, cold-blooded man that he could never forgive. There were so many things Toris could never forgive Ivan for, forcing him to give his friend a merciful death would just be another one of the many.

Toris couldn't believe what he was going to do, but it must be done; for the sake of Gilbert who deserved more than Ivan allowed him to live on. It was simply _inhumane._ Ivan could practically represent the Lord Hades himself and hold that medal with pride. The Lithuanian man shuddered but quickly refocused as he saw a black crow perched on the cage, blue-black feathers shimmering like oil in the morning light as it dipped down to burrow its beak into the thin flesh of Gilbert’s exposed ass. Toris blanched and ran over waving his arms widely to scare the crow. 

Toris managed to fend off the crow as it flapped away with a hoarse cry, and fell onto his knees as he tried to get the albino to arouse to no avail. But… He was still breathing, if only faintly. Toris bit his lip hard as the battle inside him waged with one another, the brown curtain of his hair fanning around his face as he brought the deadly serum to Gilbert's blistered arm. 

Toris felt the tears swelling up as he released a choked sob. 

"Gilbert, hey, can you hear me? Listen, I brought what you wanted. It'll be over soon, Gilbert." 

There was no response but Toris couldn’t wait, it was too dangerous to hover here. He took the syringe out of his pocket and held the needle over an exposed bit of flesh. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t do more for you Gilbert. But now, at least, you’ll be at peace. Goodbye, my friend…” Toris pressed in the needle but before he could press the plunger there were brisk footsteps approaching and suddenly a single Nazi soldier came around the corner of the building and Toris felt himself seize up with an entirely new panic. 

\----

Roderich couldn’t help but freak out as he skulked around the perimeter of a Nazi camp, feeling more conspicuous than he would have if he’d strapped a Jewish star on his arm. He knew he looked the part, but despite his reassurances to Eliza, he certainly didn’t feel the part. He didn’t share her natural ability to blend in effortlessly. And attitude was everything with these thin-skinned bigots. He wasn’t confident in his ability to respond naturally to hearing casual racism bandied about. So he stayed on the edge of the camp, followed the fence line, and didn’t dare enter a building or interact with anyone. It was also why he’d chosen this pre-dawn time, early enough fewer people would be about, late enough for some light. 

Roderich hoped to not talk to anyone, just do a simple sweep and see what there was to see, get a sense of where everything was, and then get out until they could come back for more. He felt his heart jump into his throat when he turned around the back of a building and stumbled across a man in a lab coat, kneeling next to a chicken crate. Roderich stopped short, the man swinging around to look up at him, and for a moment they both shared the same muffled panic from being seen. 

"T-This isn't what it looks like, Sir!" Toris wailed with panic, his heart lumping in his throat as he felt the syringe tremble and feel incredibly heavy. 

Roderich quickly sized up the situation, trying to figure out the right response. The lab coat was a frightening variable he didn’t understand, was this person ranked above or below him, a common Nazi soldier? He had no idea, but the way he said sir, the strained scared wheedling in his voice of someone trying not to get slapped, definitely made him seem like a subordinate. He took a split-second decision and leaned into what he assumed was his rank.

“W-what are you doing back here?” Roderich asked, after the first word he managed to firm and lower his voice. He hoped he hadn’t misread the situation, slowly stepping closer.

Toris didn't notice the tremor in the officer’s voice, head bowed low respectfully as he gestured to the crate. "J-j-just... Taking o-out the trash, Sir…" 

Roderich looked past his legs at the chicken wire crate and for a moment didn’t understand what he was looking at until a small whine floated up from the twisted stuffed shape and Roderich did a double-take, feeling nausea swell and rise dangerously in his middle. He couldn’t let them know, he couldn’t give in to the sickening sensation, the absolute cruelty of what he was witnessing hitting him right in the stomach. He came closer, swallowing down the spit pooling in his mouth, breathing and controlling himself. As Elizaveta said, he had to turn to stone. 

“Why?” Roderich asked simply as he got closer, the man backed up until he was against the crate himself. He looked terrified and sick as well, Roderich instinctively knew he hadn’t committed such an atrocity. 

"Nothing more than, cruelty, S-sir." Toris hung his head. "I-I was going t-to inject a serum for a quick and p-painless death, he's.. He's already s-suffered so much, you must understand!" 

Roderich’s eyes caught the syringe still clutched in his hand and shook his head wordlessly, not knowing what to say. So many questions but he knew they were all pointless in the face of the Nazi machine. For as logical as they liked to pretend they were, there were countless absurdities like this. Cruelty for its sake alone. He stepped around the scientist and looked closer at the crate, now able to see the way the body was crammed into the tiny container, the wires cutting him, his skin bubbled and angry rash-red from the sun. He didn’t look very elderly but his hair was shocking white, how old was this poor man? Roderich wondered, reminded of someone. 

It wasn’t until Roderich stepped closer and the victim’s eye cracked open and Roderich saw the crimson iris, darkened by pain and tears, that it all suddenly clicked together into place. Shock replaced with sickness as Roderich forgot his role and leaned forward, gripping the edge of the box littered with splinters.

“Gilbert?!”

"Nnnnnn…" Was all Gilbert could muster before closing his eye again, sinking back under. 

Toris jumped in alarm as his head whipped from the soldier to Gilbert, perplexed by what was going on. "Y-You know this man, S-sir?" 

“I-I… He’s…” Roderich paused, overcome by so many emotions. Finding his friend again, who they all thought had been killed, seeing him in such terrible state, the need for subterfuge, the need to get him _out_ of there, he didn’t know where to start, so many possibilities flooding into his mind at once. 

He shook his head, trying to think. Looked at the scientist and knew he had to figure him out first. 

“Who are you to him?” Roderich asked slowly, trying to keep his voice even. 

"I-I-I'd like to consider him as my friend, S-sir. H.. how do you know this man, S-sir? My name is Toris. Please, let me do this for him. I can't let him live like this for another moment... It's too cruel, even for Nazis, herr!" 

Roderich knew he was being hasty but Gilbert had no time to spare. He decided to trust this rabbity man and maybe they could get him out.

“Yeah, Nazis are scum, aren’t they?” Roderich murmured, “I’m not one of them, my name’s Roderich and I came for information but now, I have _got_ to get him out of here! If you’re his friend then we’re the same; will you help me rescue him? He doesn’t need to die!” Roderich kneeled, pulling futilely at the lock. “Do you have a key Toris? Hang on Gilbert, I’m going to get you out of there!”

Toris was flabbergasted at the man's change of heart, turning frantic and desperate at rattling the padlock. Did he just call himself Nazi scum? What was going on? Was he… Undercover? But how could that be?

"Y-there's only one man that has the key, S-sir. I've tried talking to Ivan, but he's the devil himself! Gilbert's already been inside there for nearly 24 hours... The man doesn’t hold any compassion. So cruel, that Ivan!” 

Roderich was about to go get the wire cutters from the back of the truck outside where Elizaveta was waiting, cursing himself for not bringing them with him in the first place, when suddenly the back doors to the building opened and a tall grey-haired man walked out, long lab coat flowing behind him. Next to him, he saw Toris turn white as a sheet and began to tremble.

“I-Ivan…” Toris said quietly.

“Can I help you, officer? That is my subject and he’s taking part in an experiment. I must insist you step away from the box,” Ivan said mildly, a smile playing about his lips, but from the way Toris reacted and some indefinable creepiness he exuded, Roderich knew he couldn’t take this man lightly. But neither could he leave his friend like this. He stood straight, tried to puff his chest out, and seem all-important.

“Dr. Ivan, was it? I have orders to transfer this prisoner to another facility,” Roderich improvised, hoping the bluff would work. 

Ivan stepped closer, his smile not dimming at all.

“Really? I never received those transfer papers.”

“They are in transit. I am here to carry the orders out, let him out of there,” Roderich said, doing his best to sound commanding and not step back as the larger man approached.

“I’m sorry, herr, I simply can’t do that. When I receive orders from my supervising commander I’ll hand him over, but until then he is under my jurisdiction.” Ivan was right in front of them, looking down on Roderich and Toris who stood between him and the crate. “And who might be your commanding officer? I’ve never seen you before,” Ivan asked leaning forward ever so slightly. 

Roderich stood his ground and said in a rush as he’d practiced in the mirror, “Officer Beilschmidts.”

Ivan’s smile widened. He was just a fraction too close.

“You have purple eyes. Like me,” Ivan said softly. 

Roderich scowled, fingering the gun in the back of his belt, ready to draw if necessary. But the moment the intimidation felt too real, Ivan backed off, leaned back, and pulled a set of keys from his pocket. 

“I know it’s hard to understand, but I am being very precise with what I’m doing here. This subject is an important tool for the war effort. I can’t just hand him over to anyone. But why don't you come inside with us and we’ll sort this out? Find those ‘in-transit’ orders, hmm?” Ivan said.

“No, that’s alright, I’ll just-”

“You’ll just step aside, please,” Ivan said, false politeness masking the threat. 

Roderich ground his teeth, sidestepping to let him through to kneel down and slide the key in the padlock. 

When Ivan drew the metal door back, the wires which had sliced and burrowed into Gilbert’s flesh were drawn back out roughly, causing the wounds to bleed anew. Despite the door being opened Gilbert didn’t move, still half-conscious, limbs locked and stuck in place as if he’d been fossilized. Ivan grabbed an ankle, yanked it to dislodge a leg, pulling roughly, dragging more of Gilbert out though everything caught and scraped on the way out, getting stuck when his other leg wouldn’t unfold. He still didn’t move, didn’t wake, just little involuntary whimpers trickling from his dry throat. 

Roderich was appalled at the rough handling. 

“Hey, careful!” He said but it was ignored. 

Ivan manually unfolded Gilbert’s other stuck leg and then was able to pull the rest of his body out, dragging his front across the cement. Gilbert moaned and gave tearless sobs, his body had no water left to give. 

Disturbed and awoken, it took a moment for Gilbert to realize Ivan had let him out, the blood rushing to his ankles, hands, and knees that had him tingling all over. Gilbert moaned as his private parts were dragged along the rough cement.

What was happening? Had Ivan forgiven Gilbert? He honestly couldn’t care less, he was just happy to finally be out of that death trap.

From the ground, Gilbert managed to look up at the sky, a tall man in a Nazi uniform towering over him with… concern…? What the hell was that all about? The longer Gilbert stared, the more he found it hard to believe it was his best friend staring right back at him. There was only one person he knew other than Ivan who had purple eyes as well as that dark walnut hair, although it wasn’t as healthy and glossy as he remembered; still, Gilbert had a feeling it was Roderich Edelstein. But it was like seeing him in a dream. Cruel and out of context. Roderich couldn’t be here… He was losing it. He let his eyes close, too fatigued to even keep them open. 

Ivan folded the boy’s arms across his lap and then scooped Gilbert up under his neck and knees, cradling him against his chest. Gilbert leaned into him, nuzzling into him, still shaking from unshed tears. 

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, _herr_ , I need to stabilize the subject,” Ivan said, the way he sneered the title revealing just how much he didn’t respect him, knew he was a fraud but was willing to play along if he did too. 

Roderich stood there shaking, hand on his gun, weighing his options. He wanted to kill this man, the sadistic one who obviously put Gilbert in such a condition. But the sound, and Gilbert, how would he get them out again? He needed a plan, he needed back up, he needed to _save Gil!_ But he could do nothing, stood there impotent as his friend was easily carried away. Toris stood next to him, looking miserable. 

Before Ivan reached the door as he called back, “Come, Toris. We have a lot of work to do.” The scientist slumped and gave Roderich a sad look. 

“We’re coming back to save him, don’t let him die,” Roderich whispered urgently. Toris didn’t respond, just turned and walked into the building, closing the doors behind him. 

Roderich felt like he’d lost 10 years from his life. He stopped the reconnaissance. It wasn’t important anymore, no, this was their new mission. Save Gilbert. He headed back toward the truck, trying to think of how to tell Elizaveta everything he’d just seen. 

\----

Ivan carried the albino down the hall, his weight light and pliable in his grasp, and ended up in the bathroom, where he placed Gilbert in the bottom of the tub and turned on the water to just barely above cool. He knew the sensitive sunburnt skin wouldn’t do well in hot water. 

As the tub filled slowly, Ivan took a glass and filled it with cold water from the sink, kneeling to raise it to Gilbert’s lips, pouring it slowly down his parched throat. Gilbert moved helplessly toward the glass, like an infant suckling, and gulped down the water desperately. Ivan wordlessly filled the glass again, and again held it to his mouth to drink. A third-round until Ivan decided it was enough for now. The tub was also at just the right level and he cut off the water. 

Without speaking Ivan slowly rubbed across Gilbert’s back and shoulders with a washcloth, a gentle foam being raised over the tattered body. He worked methodically, starting from the top and working his way down, taking his time with Gilbert’s hands, being careful around the deep wire-pattern cuts, being extra gentle as he cleaned his limp dick, sudsing it, pulling the skin back, swiping around the exposed head. 

Gilbert didn’t respond at all, just sat there and let himself be thoroughly washed. 

Ivan worked his way down all the way to Gilbert’s toes, pulling the washcloth between each little one, before sliding back up to run it around the rim of the massive dildo still plugging him up. Ivan pulled the drain out and let the water run down the drain, all of it tinted with dirt, chicken droppings, and a lot of blood both fresh and scabbed.

Gilbert felt incredibly sore, his entire body ached and thrummed deep within his bones as the albino softly moaned whenever he was moved. He felt as if he was floating between life and death, his crusty eyes slowly peeling open to meet those haunting purple eyes. 

“Alright, just relax Gilbert,” Ivan said, gripping the dildo base and tugging it gently from his body which surrendered it slowly and unwillingly.

Gilbert closed his eyes as he felt the dildo being removed, it felt so normal being there for so long it made him feel a strange sense of discomfort and longing as it was pulled out with a dry pop. He couldn't place why exhaling with a shuddering breath. The albino feared moving and didn't understand the sense of freedom. Gilbert couldn't really feel his body, could only observe with his eyes - but even then, it was sensory overload. 

Despite having just escaped literal hell Gilbert still felt the contradictory wish to be back inside that cage, even if the death was slow: at least inside the cage, when he thought it was over, he’d already managed to make it to that dark, numbed out place. He didn't have to think about Ivan, he wouldn’t be the last person he saw before his final breath. But now here he was bringing him back, and doing so with such gentle hands… Gilbert didn’t deserve it, a soft moan falling past his cracked lips. 

Ivan pulled him from the tub like a doll, picked him up, and stood him there where Gilbert immediately lost his footing. His joints were still rusted in pain and refused to work right. He collapsed to the floor, jarring every open wound, yet another pathetic whimper.

Ivan tsked but didn’t say anything. He knew GIlbert would be fairly helpless for a while. He drained the tub, set everything in order, and then picked him up again, heading to the bedroom. 

Ivan laid him on the bed face down, let his limbs unfold and stretch fully for the first time in hours. His back was an angry raw red mess, his translucent skin having taken the full brunt of the summer sun for a full day. Ivan took a skin salve from the side table, uncapping the dish and laying on a thick glob of cream to Gilbert’s vivid back. With wide, slow hands he began to smooth it down, spread the cream to every cut, to every blister, to every inch of bruised, mottled flesh. 

Gilbert moaned softly as he felt something soothing applied over his skin, it was minimal, it barely did anything, but he noticed enough to feel the change and the coolness, leaning into Ivan’s large and broad hands as he enjoyed the tingling sensation after mind-numbing pain for who knows how _long_. 

After a few minutes, Ivan flipped Gilbert over, rolling him easily onto his back where the worst of his injuries were crushed underneath his own weight. He arched slightly before giving up and slumped on the bed, accepting the pain.

“Gilbert. Do you know why I took you out of that cage just now?” Ivan asked, sliding onto the bed as well, cradling the albino’s head in his lap. “Answer me, Gilbert.” 

“Nnnn….” Was all the albino could muster, could hear the threat edged within Ivan’s voice.

“I did it because Toris was so worried about you. He couldn’t focus, couldn’t do his work. I had to bring you back in because of him,” Ivan said softly. “He even wanted to take your place… But because of that, he let you off the hook. Don’t you think?” Ivan pressed a button on a control pad next to the bed. Only a few seconds later Toris appeared nervously in the doorway, shoulders hunched. 

“You called for me, sir?” Toris asked timidly, glancing from Gilbert back to Ivan. 

“Yes, you must take responsibility for your actions, Toris..”

"H-huh?" Toris looked up at Ivan, not quite a sense of shock - Ivan had done that far too many times now to alarm Toris. 

"You said you'd take Gilbert's end of the punishment, mm?" 

Toris bit his lips and nodded. 

“You care about him that much?” 

“H-he’s my friend…” Toris admitted, lowering his eyes to the floor. 

“Then come over here and suck your friend’s cock.” 

Toris felt the floor tilt under him, his world shifting as he absorbed the order. He didn’t want to, he didn’t want to taint their relationship with forced, unwanted contact. From Gilbert’s eyes pleading he knew it wasn’t anything he desired either. But Ivan knew how to find those sensitive spots and spur right into them.

"Don't make me repeat myself. Gilbert is family and we all have to do our part. Right now it’s your job to make him feel better." 

Toris couldn't believe what was happening, he couldn't preserve even Gilbert's friendship after all of this? Toris sighed, hanging his head low. He knew there was no other choice. The only consolation was he knew Gilbert was also aware. They were both just toys for his sick games, he could smash their faces together and make them kiss all day long if it amused him. 

Ivan growled at Toris in warning, already picking up Gilbert and shifting him forward so he could fully sit on the bed, settling around behind him.

"Y-yes, Sir…" No longer having an excuse for backtalk, Toris had nothing to back up his defiance and he knew that best out of all of them. If he played his part to perfection, no matter how disturbing the role, he might be given off lightly.

Toris kneeled in between Gilbert's thighs, the skin clinging to his bones in such a vivid display of impoverishment that the Lithuanian could feel an acidic surge of bile that he had to swallow down. May as well get over it, for the sake of the punishment. Toris reached for Gilbert limp cock and grabbed it tenderly, no reaction given even as the Lithuanian began to move and pump his hand. Toris knew Ivan wasn't fond of taking it slow, even if he was just watching; and so Toris closed his eyes and lowered his mouth to the velvety soft dick, working on Gilbert's flaccid cock, humming softly and tracing delicate circles along his ball sacks that had Gilbert somewhat reacting. 

Gilbert's eyes fluttered open in confusion as he felt something warm and hot enclosed around his cock, his eyes peering down to meet the crown of brown hair. Why was Toris…? Gilbert couldn't even muster the strength to lift his arms and push him away as he leaned against Ivan. 

“No…” Gilbert managed to moan, voice still cracking despite how softly he said it. 

His body enjoyed it despite being swamped with pain, the warmness of Toris’ mouth soothing and relaxing as Ivan traced the lines on his back with yet more cream that was cold, causing Gilbert to shudder as he brushed over a particularly sore area, shivers following his fingertip as he skated over slices in his skin. 

The moment had only just taken form before Ivan broke the spell, sending new ripples of emotion through the waters.

“Gilbert, Toris was going to kill you, did you know that? He disobeyed a direct order. What should be his punishment for that, what do you think, Gilbert?”

"Hhhhhh…" 

Toris knew better than to respond to Ivan as he listened to the Russian man speak, suckling loudly on Gilbert’s cock. Trying to let a show of enthusiasm distract from the gavel Ivan would inevitably swing at him. 

Toris continued to suck Gilbert’s flaccid dick, trying to wring some passion out of him even if it felt so awful; the least Toris could do was try and make Gilbert feel good. 

“Don…” Gilbert whispered through his ripped lips, leaning against Ivan made his skin feel incredibly itchy as his legs rubbed against the lab coat, his ass so very, very sore, blood spotting on the lab coat from the fresh cleaned wounds.

Toris couldn’t get much further joy as Gilbert’s whimpering fell to the Lithuanian’s ears, he felt absolutely awful. He’d just tried to murder Gilbert and now Ivan was punishing him by making him suck the sickly albino. Despite using his best techniques he’d learned through force, nothing was working and he let the flaccid dick slip out of his mouth. 

“Ivan…” Toris pleaded, shaking his head. Toris wasn’t even sure what he was pleading for, when could Gilbert _rest?_ It was a difficult question to answer, even now as he sat in between Gilbert's knees as he observed the blood trickling down his thighs.

“Keep sucking Toris, it doesn’t matter if he’s hard or not. Just keep licking him,” Ivan said. “It’s not about getting him off, it’s about showing him how much we care,” Ivan said, pressing the emaciated body against his. His dick was thick and hard and pressed to the small of Gilbert’s back where he could feel it throbbing.

“See? Just like this. I’ve missed my good little puppy,” Ivan cooed as he picked him up by the hip bones and without any effort pressed his impressive length inside Gilbert. His body accepted him easily, without hesitation, and Gilbert gave a trembling sigh as he was filled. Ivan didn’t move, didn’t jostle him as Toris continued his futile work. Just being inside him was enough for now.

“Only good boys get this treatment. Are you going to be a good boy from now on?” 

"J-j… Ja…" It had never been so difficult to speak.

“Yes, you are. I believe you.” Ivan began to press and smear the bloodied lines that cut across his ass.

Although Gilbert's own dick refused to come back up to life, he was thankful for being Ivan’s cock sleeve again. Although he’d welcomed death when at its doorstep, it didn’t mean he was any less terrified of it. Doing this was more familiar, a relief.

Ivan smiled, glad to have things back in order, everyone thoroughly dominated and in their place. Speaking of everyone… He needed to make an example out of Gilbert and Toris, they could all learn from them. While Toris continued to lick and Gilbert futilely squirmed and whimpered, Ivan reached over and pressed two more buttons on the console. After a moment Feliks opened the door.

“You like, wanted to see me-” Felik’s face dropped as soon as he saw what he’d walked into. Gilbert looked half-dead, burnt, and bleeding all over Ivan’s lab coat and Toris was between his legs, licking Gilbert's limp cock and looking miserable. Ravis trailed in from behind Feliks and gasped, going pale as he saw Gilbert’s condition, Toris doing what was typically his job, and he started to tremble in fright. 

Ivan beckoned them over, “Come, come. We all have to be here for Gilbert now. We can all be one happy family again.” The two trudged over slowly, not liking the direction it was going. 

“Oh, and strip for me first. You know how I like it,” Ivan said, starting to get into the mood. He leaned back and got comfortable against the headboard, Gilbert tucked between his arms, spasming softly around his dick. 

Feliks sighed and gave a pout, he was the only one in the group who could get away with it because his frown face looked cute to Ivan. Feliks got away with a lot of small incidental things like that, but they all knew it wasn’t free. His mannerisms came with certain skills and Ivan put them to use. 

Felkis swayed and danced lightly on the balls of his feet, spinning slowly as he carefully peeled off his t-shirt, tossed it aside and watched it fall, directing Ivan’s gaze where to linger. Next he turned, bent all the way down to touch his toes, presenting his ass as he shimmied slowly out of his pants, exposing the pink set of lingerie he was wearing underneath. This whole situation was all kinds of fucked up, but Felik’s knew better than to question it and had learned to just play along with Ivan’s fantasy.

Feliks began to roll his hips and caress his long limbs, his cock flaccid in between the tight panties as he gave Ivan a seductive look, eyelashes fluttering like butterfly wings as he walked over confidently by the side of his chair, practically sitting on it as he began to kiss the Russian man with open, exposed legs.

Ravis slowly and shakily took his clothes off without any fanfare, nothing to see. He knew he was an afterthought and focused on folding the clothes as they came off from Feliks dropping them in his stripping routine. He set the clothes on the chair and pulled out an old gramophone from the corner, turning it on and setting the needle. As warped Tchaikovsky opera music began to fill the space, Ivan crooked a single finger at the small man and he sighed, knowing that there was no more delaying the inevitable. Ravis climbed up on the bed where the scene of the crime was laid out. Ivan grabbed his wrist and yanked him closer, pulling him off balance just because he could. 

“Here Ravis, pet the doggy,” Ivan said gleefully, laughing quietly to himself. Ravis felt like a small dog himself, whenever Ivan was near him he couldn’t stop his pavlovian shaking no matter what he tried. Even when Ivan tried to “train” him out of it, his methods made the trembling even worse. Eventually, it was just an accepted part of the dynamic, same as Felik’s lingerie, Toris’ scarred sac, and Gilbert’s dog collar, things became strange when you lived in Ivan’s shadow for too long. 

He reached out and began to stroke Gilbert’s leg, small little swipes that didn’t go far. Ivan rumbled and Ravis flinched, already knowing he wasn’t doing it right. He slowed down, lengthened, and kneaded the pale skin, using both hands to work up and down his thin legs. His fingers felt all the scrapes and cuts Ivan had inflicted on him as he went. He avoided Toris and his fellatio and worked his way up Gilbert’s side, hands gliding and caressing over his hips. Ivan was satisfied, it was enough for him. 

Ivan suddenly pulled Gilbert’s legs up, flexing him so he was bent nearly in half, Ivan’s pole of a dick being the only thing connecting him to the ground. 

“Oh, I know. Ravis, join Toris. We’re showing Gilbert how much we love him.”

It certainly looked nothing like love to Ravis but he knew better than to comment on Ivan’s delusions. He crawled in next to Toris, Gilbert’s legs being spread wider to accommodate. They took one brief glance at each other, a silent unspoken apology passing between them, before getting to the task, both of them lapping, sucking, and running their mouths and tongues along Gilbert’s dick, barely a chore for them to work with. 

Toris glanced up to see Felik’s touching himself within his lingerie, the sight almost erotic enough to turn Toris hard. Toris enjoyed spending time with Feliks whenever it was allowed. It wasn’t a lot.

The usual repetitive thought hit his brain once again: the Lithuanian wished they could have met under better circumstances.

“That’s enough Toris, it’s Ravis’ turn,” Ivan said, pleased to play director to the scene. Ravis sighed, knowing it was coming eventually. He was the resident cocksucker. He was surprised when he shifted to take Toris’ place, mouth open and heading for Gilbert’s sad half-mast, when Ivan took him by the chin and led him upward instead, scrambling to follow the pinching grip until he was right up by Ivan’s face, almost standing to meet him. His trembling got worse as they came eye to eye. Ravis hated it here the most when he was being dissected. 

“Now Ravis, my sweet baby boy, you’re going to get a treat today. You get to fuck Gilbert together with me today, isn’t that exciting for you?”

Ravis heard the words and comprehended them, but the meaning got mixed up with the horror somewhere on the way and, as with the trembles, Ravis felt himself slipping back into a stress faint, one over which he had no control; collapsing on the bed with a dull thud.

Ivan watched Ravis fall backward and pass out, shaking his head with a sigh. Typical Ravis. Ivan gestured a nod towards Toris instead who was just wiping his chin free of saliva from the sloppy blowjob. 

Feliks briefly stilled, concerned for Ravis. It didn’t last long, knowing Ivan would be quick to say something about it. So Feliks moaned his loud, lewd noises as he fondled his ball sac and started to rock his hips in the air, panting in Ivan’s ear. It wasn’t enough to distract him.

“Suck Ravis and get him hard,” Ivan ordered Toris and immediately went to taunting Gilbert, threatening him in his ear. “Got to get him ready, right Gil? You’re going to have two dicks at once, aren’t you lucky?” The albino couldn’t respond, unclear how much he was aware of what was going on around him. 

Toris felt the sickness in his stomach return, knew he was risking his neck saying anything when Ivan was in this kind of mood, but the thought of forcing Gilbert to take more abuse, on top of everything else…

“Ivan, please… Gilbert can’t… He’s not even responding...“ 

Ivan flashed his fist out so quickly Toris didn’t see it coming, the punch hitting him over his nose and left eye flashing stars with white across his vision and sending him tumbling back on the bed, cringing and writhing from the pain. 

“Toris. You’re the reason he’s in here right now. Don’t talk back or I’ll choke you to sleep next,” Ivan murmured, ice cold. He absolutely meant it. 

Feliks gasped at the sudden violence, jumping and almost falling into the chair as his green eyes went wide and he stared at the blood dripping from Toris’ nose, a dark purple bruise blooming across his left eye. It would probably swell shut over the next few hours. 

“Oh, my god,” Feliks muttered.

Toris panted and moaned and held his face, his nose hurt spectacularly, made tears well in his eyes as the blood dripped nonstop. His left eye throbbed horribly, he could already feel the blood swelling there too, under the skin, inflaming outward. 

“Toris, don’t make Gilbert wait. Get the baby hard already,” Ivan said, not even acknowledging the punch or the subsequent damage. Toris gave a soft helpless sob and nodded, moving his aching face over Ravis’ unconscious form, picking up his small dick and breathing down upon it, swallowing him into his mouth easily. As fucked up as it was, Toris thought, at least out of all of them, Ravis was the smallest.

Even unconscious, Ravis’ body reacted, growing hard rather quickly despite the blood, tears, and snot dripping onto him from the brutal abuse pouring from Toris. When Ravis’ hips began twitching on their own Ivan decided it was enough.

“That’s good, now pick him up, help him get it in.” 

This time Toris didn’t talk back, but rather he shuddered. Involuntarily Toris grabbed the small limp boy up by his arms and began to shuffle him forward. Gently Toris laid Ravis across Gilbert and began to reach his hand between them to find the tight line where Ivan’s dick was already penetrated. Using his spit, Toris slicked up Ravis’ small cock and began trying to press it in; slipping fingers inside to open Gilbert up, just enough to fit Ravis in. 

“Push his hips, that’ll do it,” Ivan said mysteriously as if he’d done this before. Toris shuddered and didn’t even want to think about it. He pushed Ravis’ hips and sure enough, with the dick head in place the pressure was enough to breach through, suddenly rending Gilbert wider than he’d ever been. 

“O..oww..w..” Gilbert moaned, helpless, briefly coming awake again.

The moment Ravis entered Gilbert, he too suddenly slammed back into reality. The tightest vice he’d ever experienced gripped intensely around his dick causing his body to fall into sensory overload. The boy gasped, looking down, and came to the shocking discovery that he was inside of Gilbert, snug and tight against Ivan’s cock. Ravis was on the verge of fainting again from the pressure being too tight, the blood was throbbing in his dick and he could feel Ivan’s larger pulse alongside it.

“Well? Go on Ravis. Show Gilbert what you’ve got. Give him the love he deserves.” 

Ravis let the tears flow as he began to barely move his hips, trying not to make it harder on Gilbert and himself. 

“Come on, you can do better than that Ravis.” 

The petite man whimpered and cried harder. Ravis threw his hips against Gilbert, sliding in and out and rubbing right against Ivan. He began to sweat and moan as it didn’t take long for him to cum. So rarely was Ravis given the permission to be allowed to be the one fucking, he had no stamina for it. The Latvian gave a small cry like an injured bird when he came, arching and seeing that Ivan was staring right into him. 

“Good job Ravis. Alright Feliks, it’s your turn to love Gilbert.” 

“W-what?! I’m like… Not a top Ivan, you know that!” Feliks huffed in Ivan’s ear, his tongue caressing the outer shell.

“Tonight you are. Come on, Toris will help you out if you need it. But you _are_ doing this.” 

“Okay, okay~ You don’t need to tell me twice, Ivan.” Feliks stood up from the chair and gave the Russian man a wink, for his sassy attitude he had to live up to Ivan’s expectations if he didn’t want to receive a black eye or even worse. The Polish man always tried to be one step ahead of his friends, for fear of Ivan’s violence. Felkis was constantly reminded by their demise that it was best to stay just quiet and play along. 

Feliks became flaccid when Toris received the black eye, it just happened - it was natural, but he knew it wouldn’t have to take long if he extracted himself from the morbid situation and began to pump his cock to life, stepping forward as he stood close to the albino, could barely look at the tattered body as the bloody sight made his cock fall. 

Feliks had to act quickly and he thrust his hips upward, slowly pushing the head of his dick forwards; it was difficult, considering he wasn’t even fully hard, but he managed; Gilbert’s ass hole grasping on to him in such a way that it left Feliks breathless, thighs shaking as he began to thrust upwards into the tight, wet heat. The tightness made it worth it, made the process go faster as he felt his hips snap like a whip, breathing becoming feverish and high pitched as he felt himself go on his tippy toes from how good it felt. 

Thankfully it was quickly over for Feliks as he felt his thighs spasm, groaning deeply as he squirted his load into Gilbert and removed himself, watching the fluid overflow and bubble over Gilbert’s ass crack, full with Ivan’s cock. It was erotic and shameful and Feliks had to look away.

Ivan smiled, cupping Felik’s face and rubbing his thumb across his lips, a smile widening as Feliks automatically took his thumb into his mouth and sucked it gently. 

“Good girl, Feliks. You did such a good job. Now, go make out with Ravis,” Ivan said, already turning his attention to Toris while Feliks crawled to the foot of the bed and pulled Ravis into his lap. They began kissing, Feliks being more enthusiastic than Ravis. 

Toris remained with his head hung, face hurting no matter how much time passed. He knew it was only a matter of time until he would be forced to rape Gilbert. 

“Come on Toris, you know what’s next. We all have to do our part to show Gilbert how much we care,” Ivan said, staring at the other two as they continued to make out and paw at each other. 

Toris loathed Ivan, slowly rising to his knees as his body reacted to the fear. Why, why? Toris didn’t understand. Gilbert didn’t deserve this, _they_ didn’t deserve this - but Toris knew he wasn’t brave enough to voice his opinions anymore, not having something to back up his reasoning as “just because” wasn’t good enough. 

Toris bit his lip at the battle going on inside his mind as he forced himself to react, to do _something._ The sloppy and wet noises Ravis and Feliks made while they made out was a more decent distraction than Gilbert’s shredded body at the mercy of Ivan’s brutal hands.

Toris unbuttoned his fly and let his pants drop to the floor. With a heavy heart, Toris was tormented about disobeying Ivan. Rebel. Yet was it worth it? Was… Gilbert worth risking his own life? What a selfish thought. Yet it always came down to one's own survival...

After this, he’d help Gilbert; bring him back to health and try and bypass the forced rape that would entangle their relationship as friends. Ivan knew it would cause a barrier, a line once crossed, experiencing rape regardless of the reason behind it, he’d never want to do anything with that person ever again. It was the twisted logic of Ivan’s world.

Toris needed to stop thinking and just get over it, damn it! The Lithuanian grabbed the base of his dick and began to try and pump it to life, tried to immerse, and separate his feelings towards Gilbert. Detach himself. However, Toris was nothing like Ivan - he was human, he had a heart and feelings, he felt remorse, sadness. In Ivan’s hands, they all suffered for his sick amusement.

Toris tried to think back in his past, remembering a girl he used to like; she was small and petite, with a large chest and full hips that Toris wanted to grab and squeeze whenever she turned around batting her heavy eyelashes. Toris moaned, distantly remembering feeling her soft and large chest underneath his fingertips. Toris’ dick twitched to life, stepping forward to try and press the head of his cock inside of Gilbert - Gilbert, no, no, no. The girl. The girl.

Toris released a shuddering breath at the intense squeezing, the ass - no, pussy, pussy - was grasping and squeezing his dick as if starved for love and affection, which Toris happily plunged himself into and offered all the love he could give, hips thrusting in a frantic manner that left Toris breathless and frenzied for more, in his mind the girl was crying his name in a high pitched voice and begging for more before Toris ejaculated, cumming hard inside of her pussy as he kept his hips flush. 

Toris stood dazed and spaced, slowly coming from the high as he was anchored back down into reality. Gilbert, rape - he…. Toris balled his hands into fists as he removed himself slowly, sensitive from the intense orgasm as he bent down to buckle up his pants, couldn’t believe what he’d just done.

Ivan grinned, enjoying the torment on Tori’s face as much as his thrusting had been against his dick. They’d all been lovely, sliding and rubbing against him, making Gilbert’s hole squeeze even tighter, each one of them laying down their share of slick, Ivan felt like he was finally ready to finish him off. He let down Gilbert’s legs and lifted him off his dick, settling him down on the cushions, clambering over so he straddled over Gilbert. He kneed his legs apart and lifted his hips, getting back in position and pushing back inside with an audible squelch. Legs braced, dick primed and hard, Gilbert lying completely lifeless before him, tears glimmering in the corner of his eyes but didn’t fall, Ivan was finally ready. 

Unlike the others who were only moving to appease him, to get off quickly and finish it, Ivan moved like a beast claiming prey. Once he started up a rhythm he didn’t stop, going at it hard and fast and rough, slamming his full body weight down against his dick, ramming it deep inside Gilbert each time. He was so skinny, and Ivan so long, that when he fucked up hard enough he could see the faint outline of his dick slamming into his thin body, bulging out every time his hips bottomed out. Ivan panted, letting himself go, a rare moment where he lost control. Only when all the others were spent, only when he was the last one, the final one in control. 

He leaned forward and grabbed Gilbert by the hair, curling over to lick and drag his heavy tongue across one of the many cuts on his face. Gilbert moaned but didn’t react otherwise as Ivan lapped up the streaks of blood and the few tears he’d managed to leak. Finally, after what seemed like ages, he grabbed Gilbert’s legs, pulling them together and holding them there in front of his chest, hips still swiveling in from the new angle. The wet noises were constant, Gilbert was frothy with cum, and he felt so close, so close, he needed something… 

The reliable dog collar came in handy as Ivan grabbed it around Gilbert’s neck and twisted, choking him harshly as the rape continued. Even half-conscious Gilbert jerked and tightened up enough that Ivan finally let himself go, spilling himself and pumping Gilbert with his fourth load of the day. Ivan laid down on top of him, crushing him further into the bed. Heart hammering, he felt his dick softening but felt no need to remove it. 

“Everyone get out, we’re done here. Open up the lab and get to work. We’ve still got a full day ahead of us,” Ivan said from the bed without looking. 

Ravis and Feliks gratefully slid off the bed and quickly grabbed their clothes, not even staying in the room to dress. 

Toris couldn’t stand the obscure sexual squelching noises that filled the room, Ivan’s heavy panting, and the bed squeaking under the heavy distress of Ivan’s weight - it was finally, finally over.

Toris kept his head hung low out of respect more than anything as he zipped up his pants, closely following Ravis, Feilks, and joined them outside with the door sliding shut.

Ivan stayed inside, pinning Gilbert down, and allowed himself to indulge in a short rest. He rolled them both on their sides, Gilbert’s ass still pressed to his front and still housing his limp dick. Finally, after so long, Gilbert was left in relative peace. He was fully under before Ivan finished readjusting himself inside him. 

“Sleep Gilbert, sleep…” Ivan muttered, letting his eyes slide closed as well as everything had been made right once again. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did y’all make it through that last chapter OK? Damn. Ivan’s the worst lol. Let's see what some others are doing now...

Ludwig and his unit were deployed on a raid that following morning. They had gotten a report that Jews and other undesirables were hiding in an old office building, being sheltered by some of the workers there in a back room. The anonymous tips kept pouring in, neighbors betraying neighbors as the anti-Jew hysteria continued to boil over. It made their job a lot easier, rather than going door to door they could just wait for the paranoia and anti-Semitism, sown into the culture for years, to finally bear the fruits of bigotry and distrust. The propaganda did the work for them and Ludwig was always impressed when someone managed to stay hidden for so long in the unwelcoming climate the Nazis had created. 

He stepped forward with his gun drawn into the office building, already people saluting or ducking for cover, unsure what was happening as his men tore through the building. He ignored the screams, the fear, just got the job done, and kept his emotions withdrawn. 

He was just a soldier following orders and he would follow them to perfection. He didn’t falter when he saw the Jew’s eyes widen in fear as he broke the locked storage door in. He didn’t hesitate when he heard women and children scream, there were no second thoughts when they began to grab people who ran and flung themselves against the shuttered windows. He helped round everyone up, catching a woman by her wrist as she tried to squeeze by and hauling her to the waiting trucks on the bottom floor. Then he went up for another one, and another after that. The entire building had been cleared and everyone was crammed onto the back of their truck. There were far too many in there but Ludwig didn’t concern himself. They were heading toward the train station from here and sending them directly to the labor camps. 

When they arrived at the train station there was already a massive amount of commotion, energy, and noise, other Nazi units arriving at the same time to load their passengers on the train. They were shoved into the windowless boxcars like cattle.

Even when the boxcar was full to the brim they continued to push, shove, and shout people into the cramped space. When Ludwig’s unit was up, funneling their prisoner between them, he was shocked to see they still weren’t switching cars, that even in that heaving mass he was supposed to squeeze another 30 people inside. 

Somehow, they did it. Through screaming, crying and people reaching out toward them only to be hit with the butt of a rifle, they were crammed in. Their arms craned out between the slats, Ludwig could see their eyes flashing with terror, felt something twisting in his chest. Right before the doors were closed, scraping people along with it, another Nazi loaded in a bucket of water and a second empty bucket. 

Ludwig looked on in horror as he realized that a single water pail was supposed to sustain the multitude crushed inside the car, the single empty one meant to contain the waste of all these people. It… It wasn’t enough. Not even close. Even including it at all felt like cruelty. 

Ludwig watched in disbelief but acceptance, as he heard shouting and wailing coming from the cars, even outside their sealed interiors he could hear the horror, people started dying where they stood but were unable to fall because of the press of bodies around them. It was horrifying and yet he felt numb absorbing everything around him with a detached gaze. 

He wasn’t even done that day, his unit was given another assignment. Ordered to burn a synagogue in east Berlin. When Ludwig arrived he saw it had already been desecrated - windows shattered on Kristallnacht, attendees rounded up and shipped off long ago. But the building still stood, the large round window crowning the top of the building, the Star of David crisscrossed the negative space and all the glass between the metal had been shattered giving it a jagged outline. Though it had already been burnt on that night, the building still stood and held sway over the skyline with its Star which was abhorrent to Hitler. 

Ludwig helped drag Jewish art, books, Torahs - gott, so many Torahs - and throw them all inside the burnt-out husk of a building. Ludwig noticed the glossy cover of a magazine in one of the stacks of contraband he was moving and even on the front he could see two fit and attractive men, topless with visible hard-ons under their swimsuits, palming each other and smiling cheekily to the camera. Who knew what forbidden images lay beyond the cover if this was on top? It made sweat roll down his neck as he looked away, swallowing hard as he tossed the gay porn onto the pyre. 

It was just a reminder that he could never tell anyone. No one could ever know. Forget being in love with his brother, he was surrounded by people who would throw him into that synagogue if they knew he had zero interest in women, even looking at that magazine could have been his downfall. It just made him tighten everything up inside. No one would know, he didn’t need to think, didn’t need to feel. 

It worked. When they wheeled out Roderich’s grand piano from the nearby building - Ludwig knew it was his from the distinctive flame design in the woodgrain, Roderich had played such beautiful movements on that piano - he felt absolutely nothing. Like he’d lost the ability to. When he dumped the gasoline in the building he made sure to splash a liberal amount on the piano itself, dousing it with the accelerant. 

Stepping out of the synagogue and standing back in line with the other Nazis, he watched grimly as the match was tossed and the building went up rapidly in a blazing inferno, devouring the wooden beams and arcing up toward the sky in a matter of minutes. They had already doused the neighboring roofs with water and were standing by to combat any flames that spread. Only the Jewish artifacts would burn. 

Even as the synagogue crumbled in the fire they were called away yet again. Another manhunt. Jews on the loose - their orders were simple: search through all the abandoned homes in this district. Ludwig felt exhausted as he hefted his rifle and soldiered on. There was nothing to be done, just keep moving forward. 

He used his brute strength to kick doors down, his endurance to run through apartment after apartment, clearing a block before Feliciano had even finished a building. He found no one, until the last room on the last floor. An old woman jumped out from behind a couch and came swinging at him with a kitchen knife, surprising him but not able to get close as his reflexes and speed were too much. He dodged and without any hesitation, he shot the woman in the face. Her mouth widened like a drop of acid on celluloid, a softly jagged maw expanding in a perfect red circle of gore. She toppled forward lifeless. 

Ludwig was panting hard - from running? From murder? He didn’t know. Everything was blurring together - nothing made sense. He couldn’t feel anything, hear anything - that was until a small whimpering made its way through his sensory cocoon. Ludwig looked down, past the dead woman, to a pair of shivering balls of fur. He stepped over her dead body and moved closer, kneeling to get a look, and apparently that was all the indication the puppies needed that this was a friend and two German Shepherd puppies ran at him and began licking his hands furiously, tails wagging nonstop, shivering constantly, dribbling tiny drops of piddle - terrified and overjoyed at once. 

Ludwig had no idea what to do, he’d just murdered an old lady - but these puppies were so full of life he couldn’t bring himself to step away, not after they embraced him so wholeheartedly, even after he just murdered their caretaker. They were young, tiny innocent things. Ludwig scooped the brown-black pair of fluffballs and bundled them up in his jacket, snug against his chest as he exited the building in time to meet up with Feliciano. 

After that, they were finally, finally done for the day and were dismissed. As they walked to their usual haunt, Ludwig pulled the puppies out and actually felt himself smile as Feliciano melted and began to baby talk at them both. It was miraculous he could smile at all after what he’d done that day, but between the Italian and puppies’ antics, he felt his spirits lifting. He had learned to lean on Feli over the last few weeks, grateful that his eternal optimistic and cheery demeanor never seemed to waver even in the face of all the brutalities of war.

“We need to get them some food and then do you want to come over and help me get them settled?” Ludwig asked, already knowing what his answer would be.

Feliciano licked his lips and looked him dead in the eye with an intensity that made Ludwig nervous.

“I’ve been waiting for you to say that…”

Ludwig stared at Feli with a perplexed expression, feeling uncomfortable as he withdrew himself from the Italian as he kept the two pups close to his warm chest, eager to return home.

They walked briskly in silence, Ludwig could feel the lusting waves rolling off of Feliciano and he was beginning to regret inviting him over. The memory of the gay magazine burning was all too fresh…

Feliciano however, had no such qualms. He was positively skipping behind Ludwig and felt like he might flutter away on the butterfly wings in his stomach. After that strange, late night at the lab together he had gone home with him then as well. But they were both so drunk, and Ludwig so distraught, that by the time they reached the master bedroom with its king-size bed, all they had managed to do was tumble in and fall asleep. 

Now, however, they were both just getting off from work, fully aware and awake and ready and Feliciano couldn’t help but have a cheerful jaunt in his step. It had been  _ so  _ long since he’d had a good man! 

Ludwig pushed the door open after struggling with the keys, thrusting his exhausted body forward as he allowed his strange Italian friend inside his home. The puppies yipped with excitement, squirming and jumping out of his arms before Ludwig could even react.

“Shit -- I’ll go- grab us some beers.” 

There was nothing for the puppies to destroy on the floor, for it was clean and well kept. Ludwig trudged into the kitchen, his ears ringing as he remembered those hands reaching out for salvation, desperation, clawing away to grasp at anything; the screams and crying echoing in his ears now that he was left alone...

Alone...

Ludwig made it to the fridge, found his fingers lingering to open it, but he stood frozen, raising his hands to inspect the gunpowder as he brushed his fingertips together. His fingers twitched involuntarily as he felt the memory of the trigger release its bullet, his ears burning at the loud bang as he leaned and pressed his forehead against the cool linoleum on the refrigerator, a shaky sigh falling past his lips.

Ludwig shook his head, disregarding the intrusive thoughts as he opened the fridge and grabbed two cold bottles. When he entered the living room, he hadn’t expected to see Feli topless; almost dropping the glasses as he stuttered, a deep flush coating the high bridge of his nose.

“W-w-why are you --- u-undressing?”

“Ehhhhh~? Ludwiiiiiiiiiiig~~” Feli said in a high little whine, nonsensical in his response. “Ludwig, Ludwig, come on! I wanna play with you!” Feliciano pranced, literally pranced, over to the German and took his hands, wrapping them around him and pushing himself close so their bodies were pressed together. 

“How’s that hmmmmm~? Do you get it now Ludwiiiig?” Feli asked in a lilting voice. 

Ludwig’s eyes widened - had he, just heard correctly? 

Feli eagerly grabbed his hands and wrapped them around his thin waist as a clear indication of what Ludwig had assumed he wanted. He felt his insides tighten, screwing in even harder with a dying strain, and he felt the bottles slip between his fingertips, the sweat of his palms building up as they cluttered to the floor.

Never before had he been so caught off his guard, let alone by his Italian friend.

Flustered and hot, Ludwig backed up as he crouched down to retrieve the fallen bottles, thankfully they didn’t smash during the impact, and only a few glugs of beer spilled out. 

“Ah, Feliciano, I-” 

Feli kneeled with a handkerchief he whipped out of his back pocket and cheerfully began to blot up the small spill. He was unnaturally unperturbed. 

“Ah, sorry Ludwig! Don’t worry, I actually like cleaning, believe it or not!” He finished patting and rubbing the carpet, standing and drawing his hands up Ludwig’s long strong body as he did it. 

“And, I can clean more than carpets… Come on Ludwig, I can feel you…” Feli’s clever little hand cupped Ludwig through the front of his pants, his other reaching up to touch his neck, still leaning in so they had a single outline. 

Ludwig inhaled sharply as he felt his knees buckle underneath him, alarmed at the hand casually cupped between his pants. 

The feeling… it… 

“F-feli, t-this is inappropriate...” Ludwig despised the way his voice stuttered. The German was completely out of his comfort zone, but he didn’t find himself exactly pushing the Italian away either. “I don’t know w-what makes you assume…”

Feli gave a little sigh of annoyance and drew down Ludwig’s zipper, pushing him backward until his legs hit the couch and he fell back onto it, still holding the beers aloft. He grabbed them out of his hand and turned sharply to set them on the side table before turning back and straddling Ludwig, oozing down his chest and into his lap. He fished his hand into his pants and felt the swell of Ludwig’s dick down his left thigh and he gave a delighted little shudder.

“Ah, Ludwig… Woooow, you’re so big…~” Feli kissed his neck and then slithered, down his mouth already watering. He landed between Ludwig’s knees, licking his lips. 

“Come on, Ludwig! You can’t deny that you like men! Just let me have your dick already!” Feli said chirpily.

Ludwig found his hands left in the air, unsure what to do with them now that the bottles were out in harm's way. As enticing it was to melt into Feli’s touches, he closed his thighs, unable to look at the Italian nestled, ready, wanting, desperate. 

“We can’t, it’s unacceptable! I-if we get caught we’re done for! This isn’t worth it!” Ludwig said, trying to convince himself as he said it. Because, oh, but it really was, and Ludwig had to abruptly stand up to stop himself from reacting, knocking Feli over on his rump. 

Now Feliciano was starting to get annoyed. He pulled his knees closer to him, curled together on the floor glaring up at Ludwig. 

“Why not? What’s wrong with it?” Feli asked petulantly. 

Ludwig felt the stress from the day, the murder, the burning, the clawing hands, all crescendo into a pitch and he felt himself yelling at the Italian.

“Because they’ll kill me! Like they killed my brother!” And suddenly the internal walls of blank numbness that he’d been carefully layering up over weeks, months, years, burst as he couldn’t deny it anymore. The tears were instantaneous and strong and he collapsed to his knees right there in the room, right in front of Feli, and started heaving with soul-deep sobs. 

Gott, why did he always end up losing himself in front of this strange little redhead? A false sense of security? 

Feliciano’s annoyance evaporated instantly when his beefcake crumbled, and he sat up to wrap his arms around Ludwig as he shuddered, wailed, and cried. He knew he had demons to purge and didn’t question it or belittle him. He knew he’d fall apart if Romano were killed too. He held Ludwig for several long minutes, soothing his back, rocking him back and forth. Eventually, the puppies trundled into the room and found them, licking at Ludwig’s hands that hung limp at his sides. 

The steady hold and the tiny flickering tongues seemed to revive him and he blinked away his tears, feeling as if he’d been run through a sieve. He coughed, sniffed, and tried to smooth back his hair and gather some dignity. 

“Ah, sorry you had to see me like this, Feli…” Ludwig muttered. 

“It’s okay, I get it. You miss your brother, you’re scared the Nazis will find out. But here’s the thing! We’re already inside together! If we take care of each other, no one needs to know. Right? So please, I don’t care how much you need to cry, I’ll always hold you,” Feliciano said with sincerity, “But when you are done, and when you feel up to it, can you hold me too?” he asked innocently but again his hand was slipping into his pants, this time pushing the elastic of his underwear away, his warm bare hand enclosing around Ludwig and holding him. 

Ludwig felt weak, vulnerable, and yes, Feli was right, he too felt needy. He hadn’t pleasured himself since Gilbert went missing. He let out a shaky breath and let his hand lay on Feli’s shoulder, pulling him in closer. 

“Ja… Feli, we can hold each other…” Ludwig said softly, scared of the words even as he said them. But when Feli gave a happy little trill and pulled his hard dick from his pants, Ludwig almost shouted when he felt the heat of his mouth, the clever swirling of his tongue, the unabashed way he closed his eyes and hummed and began to suck him like an oversized lollipop. 

Fuck, he was really good. He had nothing to compare it to, just knew he wouldn’t last long with those tight confident lips pursed around his girth. 

Feliciano felt his brain heating up from the smell of dick, the flavor of precum, the slick slide of soft skin over a hot firm core. He couldn’t get enough, loved it, and wanted more as he greedily and loudly slurped at Ludwig’s thick, uncut dick. He fluttered his eyes and looked up, watched as Ludwig reacted to him, oh, how long he’d waited to see him like this, to taste him… Feli bobbed his head, knees rubbing together distractedly as his dick chafed and strained in his pants.

This felt ridiculously good, how did Feli acquire such a skill? Ludwig’s toes curled in his boots as he fought off the anxiety, trying to enjoy Feli’s soft tongue ravaging his dick. 

“S-scheißen….”

It took a while for Ludwig's walls to crumble, the selfish need for desire as he felt his core tightening, dick hard and thick inside Feli’s skillful mouth. Ludwig couldn’t help but thrust into the warmth, his mind playing tricks on him as if he was enjoying himself. 

_ Oh, but he was… _

Feli smiled around Ludwig’s dick as he felt him responding, moaning, and gripping his hair, finally relaxing into his polished skills. He was quite proud of his blowjob abilities and he always had rave reviews from the boys back home. He hoped Ludwig loved it just as much; it certainly seemed like he was. Feli swallowed around him every time his cock sank deep, humming and slurping up to the tip on every peak. He held Ludwig’s balls gently, tracing the sensitive skin of his sac and rolling the balls between his fingers. At one point he pulled them down away from his body, not too hard but enough to make Ludwig’s hips stutter and a loud moan break free. 

Feli felt so proud, what a reaction, they always loved it when he did that. 

Shamefully so, Ludwig’s body couldn’t handle the intense pleasure created from his own neglect, his jerking wildly deep into Feli’s mouth as he felt the hot spurt of cum leave his dick, the sounds he made were embarrassing to hear, but he just couldn’t stop them. 

It felt amazing, wondrous, addictive; if only he could have done this with his brother…

Feliciano gulped down his cum as if it were precious nectar, moaning loudly and gluttonously as he did so, pumping his shaft with his hand as he sucked hard on the tip, tongue flicking across the slit as he caught the ropey strings of ejaculate. He kept sucking until he felt Ludwig’s hand on his head give a tiny push, oversensitized in the wake of his orgasm, and Feli leaned back letting his dick pop out of his mouth with a wet smacking sound. 

Feli kneeled there between his knees and let out a loud contented sigh as if he’d just finished a large meal of pasta. He looked at Ludwig and wiggled happily at what he saw, his gelled hair was out of place, a deep rosy blush dusted over his nose and cheeks, his eyes hooded and dilated. He looked like he was in a dream, still trying to figure out what had just happened, and Feliciano couldn’t wait anymore.

He stood up, dropped his pants and underwear in one motion, scrambling up on the couch, standing and straddling the blond. He pressed his hard dick against Ludwig’s lips. 

“Please, Ludwig, do me too…~” Feliciano murmured in a sultry voice, one hand holding his dick steady, the other rubbing up and down his torso, fondling himself and tweaking his own nipples. His dick twitched subtly against Ludwig’s mouth every time he did. 

Ludwig’s mouth felt parched and dry as Feli’s wet dick rested on his lips, blue eyes wide as the smell of sex filled his nostrils. 

“B-but… I’ve… never…” Ludwig couldn’t even finish his sentence, his mind unable to comprehend simple words as if intoxicated.

Feli giggled and blushed, moving his hand to run through Ludwig’s short blond hair. 

“It’s okay, I’ll help you. Just do what I did - lick the tip with your tongue,” Feli said, even more turned on by Ludwig’s inexperience. He couldn’t wait to show him a whole new world. 

Ludwig seemed to hesitate, nodding briskly as his tongue slowly emerged from his lips, trembling faintly as his tongue caressed the soft, salty skin.

It… actually wasn’t that bad. Ludwig decided, eyes briefly glancing up at Feli as if asking for some silent reassurance.

“Ah, yesss, like that… Keep flicking your tongue like that, ah, and now… Now do it in little circles around the top, fuuuuuuck…” Feli felt his knees going weak as Ludwig followed his instructions, it was so erotic and absolutely worth all the flirting and pursing he’d done. Feli could feel his hips want to move, holding back from jerking in further, let Ludwig get used to the tip, get comfortable with it until he was licking it enthusiastically, eyes clouding over with lust. 

“Alright, now, use your hands to hold me, yeah, right there,” Feli said breathlessly as he moved Ludwig’s hand to the base of his cock, felt him grab on and start to bend his wrist, stroking up and down. “Take me deeper in your mouth now, but not too far… Use your hands for the rest,” Feli didn’t want him to choke, not his first time. This was more than good enough. He could teach him about deep throating later. 

Ludwig swallowed, could feel his cock stirring with life again despite cumming moments before, hardening between Feliciano’s thighs that had his hand moving vicariously, trying to get rid of the intrusive thoughts of his violent affairs.

Ludwig didn’t understand why this was affecting him so much, he should be used to it by now. Maybe because deep down, he could hear Gilbert’s judgemental voice telling him how wrong it was, how wrong this is… But he stubbornly refused to listen, wanting to prove his brother wrong.

Now Gilbert was dead.

Anger seeped into his veins as he grasped onto Feli’s appendage a little too firmly, his thoughts abruptly stopping as he heard Feli yelp, releasing him as if he had just been burned by the oven.

“S-sorry, I didn’t...”

Feli put a hand on his head to reassure him. 

"It's okay, I know it's all new to you… Just, uh, here, just use your hands," Feli said, not discouraged whatsoever, wrapping his smaller hand around Ludwig's and moving it the way he wanted, applying the right amount of pressure, helping Ludwig fist him along. He looked down and focused on Ludwig's open lips, glistening with spit in the low light, his bright blue eyes were a deep saturated cobalt and Feli gasped as he jerked their hands faster and faster. 

"O-oh, I'm close, I'm close, fuck - Ludwig, don’t stop, don’t stop, ah, ah - I'm cumming!!!" Feli's hips shuddered and he nearly fell into Ludwig, cum spattering on his face and mouth as he screamed with pleasurable abandon. 

Ludwig jerked at the sudden spurt of hot white, milky substance coating his face - his cheeks a deep, crimson red as the obscure scene washed over him. 

Feli slowly kneeled down so he was situated in his lap and they were face to face again. He began to delicately lick the ejaculate off Ludwig's face, moaning and lathing his tongue slowly over his cheeks. When he neared Ludwig’s lips he opened his mouth to kiss him as he cleaned him. 

Ludwig quickly moved up his hand to cover his lips, expression hardened as he shook his head. 

“N-nein. No kissing.” Ludwig didn’t want the Italian to erase his brother's lips, his only parting gift.

Feli pulled his hand down, pouting. 

“Ehhhhh….? But why Ludwig! That’s one of the nicest parts… I mean… we just did  _ that _ ! What’s so scary about a kiss? Come on…” The Italian whined. It made no sense to him whatsoever. If he was so worried about it they should have started with the kissing instead! 

“I said _ no, _ ” Ludwig said with more firmness, lips drawn in a tight line as he pushed himself up to his feet, couldn’t seem to meet the Italian’s brown eyes.

“You should go, it’s getting late and we have to be up early tomorrow,” Ludwig said gruffly.

Feliciano sat on the couch feeling a strange rejected hurt come over him. This wasn’t how he expected the night to play out. Everything had been perfect, even the crying he hadn’t minded. But now, as soon as they both got off it was over? He was being sent home in the middle of the night? He’d been looking forward to the cuddling and the sweetness afterward just as much as the sex. He wasn’t sure what to feel - like he only got half a meal and was being sent away hungry. 

“Ludwig… Did I do something wrong?” Feli asked plaintively. 

“What? No,” Ludwig said quickly, keeping his gaze down. He knew if he looked into those brown eyes he’d crumble again.

“It’s... just all overwhelming, this, what we're doing... The neighbors will get curious if they see us leave together in the morning.”

“O-oh…” Feli said in a small voice. Unconvinced. He’d been unavoidably, obviously gay in fascissmo Italy forever, he knew there were risks and what Ludwig said was true, they didn’t want to draw too much attention to themselves. That was understandable. But he also knew that wasn’t the thought that had passed behind Ludwig’s eyes when he rebuked the kiss. 

Still, the eternal optimist, Feliciano shook his head and decided to look at the bright side. At least he’d gotten this far. Ludwig was still scared, still unsure of himself. Feli was certain that it would get easier the more they did this and decided not to push for intimacy that Ludwig wasn’t ready for. They would get there… Eventually. 

Feliciano took a deep breath and stood up, pulling his boxer up and buttoning his jacket. 

“Well, I better get going then, before it gets too late,” Feli trailed off uncertainly. A part of him still held out hope that Ludwig would change his mind, but it was shattered when he heard his reply.

“Guten natch, Feliciano. Get home safe.” Was all of Ludwig’s brisk reply, the door was already unlocked, the Italian just needed to walk past the threshold.

With that, entrusting his friend would leave, he gave the man a brisk nod, turning on his heel as he disappeared into the kitchen.

Feliciano watched him leave and sighed heavily. It would take more work to crack through his exterior. Luckily he was stubborn and enjoyed flirting as an art form. Ludwig would get it eventually. He headed out the front door and made sure it closed securely on his way out. 

Ludwig peered his head through the threshold to see if his Italian friend was gone. Ludwig sighed, deep and exhausted as he watched the two puppies frolicking and pouncing on one another on the floor. It warmed Ludwig’s cold heart, a smile pinching his lips as he clapped his hands. 

“Alright, you two. Come here.”

Ludwig waited.

Right. They were still just puppies and didn’t understand basic human commands right now. It was a given Ludwig actually thought dogs knew this, being around the strictly trained shepherds so often during patrols. He’d have to start training them right away.

Ludwig pinched his eyebrows, turning on his heel as he went to grab some cardboard and some newspaper from the recycling bin, rustling the material to get the puppies attention.

“Come on, let’s go upstairs, yeah? I bet you two are tired.”

They looked far from it, but Ludwig couldn’t help but feel a sense of ridiculousness for talking to animals. He began to make his way up the stairs, the two furballs careening after him.

They made it into the bedroom, Ludwig’s bedroom - he kept Gilbert’s closed off, never really set foot inside as he couldn’t bring himself to change anything; left everything where it had been the day he sent Gilbert away.

There was a string of yelps that brought Ludwig out of his thoughts, the two puppies trying to reach up to the bed, but they were so short and small they could only dance on their hind legs, pawing at the blankets. Ludwig scoffed, rolled his eyes as he placed the material down and closed the door.

“You think you're staying in bed now, do you?”

Excited barks and yelps, tails wagging with frantic excitement that had Ludwig rolling his eyes, persuaded by their innocence. 

“Fine; but only for tonight.” 

Ludwig lifted them up for their one night but as the days passed he soon found he was lying to himself, for the puppies slept on the bed the following night and the night after that until it was undeniable that they had wormed their way into his heart.

\----

Gilbert's body was slick with sweat, he wasn't sure how long Ivan had left him in this state now. His cock swelled with blood and he despised the sensation of the sounding rod inserted in his urethra. His cock screamed and bounced for release, wet from the tip as he tried to catch his own breath. A small bullet vibrator had been secured with medical tape just under the head of his dick and Gilbert sobbed from the dueling sensations, tears running down his scabbed, sharp cheekbones. 

His nipples felt incredibly sensitive, heavy, and sore as he felt a chain pulling them down, his mouth clamping down hard on the metal bar resting inside his mouth, spit dripping down and accumulating a mess. He was blindfolded, had muffs over his ears and his hands were cuffed behind his back, knees forced open with a spreader bar, every part of him controlled and debased. Gilbert made a strange noise at the back of his throat, a strangled whine as he flexed his thin muscles, arching high in the industrial chair. 

Gilbert had the fright of his life when he felt strong, bold hands on him. His body lurched violently as he felt another pair, what - what the fuck was going on?! To have such broad hands touching him after so much deprivation - god, it felt fucking amazing. But he didn’t know who it was, who they were, and the suspense was terrifying

Gilbert felt his body defy gravity and float as he thrashed his legs with frantic panic, the toy almost slipping out of his asshole as he felt two pairs of hands tighten around his knees and shoulders lifting him, but the straps kept the dildo firmly in place.

"Hhnnn! Hnnnh!" Gilbert whined through the gag.

His cock and balls bounced as his body swayed, his teeth grinding down painfully on the metal bar so much so that his jaw ached badly - Gilbert sobbed, confused, frightened, and shamefully sexually aroused. The thin metal rod was the very bane of his existence, he had to force himself to keep still to avoid stimulating it - but he couldn't, as he was maneuvered in the air. 

Where the fuck was he going and what was Ivan going to do to him? Gilbert yearned to be fucked, his weeping cock bursting from its seams as a thick band was tied at the base. He'd wanted to cum so many times now but after each one he was faced with bitter rejection. A rejection that became worse and worse, how it hurt more and more -- Gilbert was desperate for relief. He hoped whoever it was carrying him away would at least allow him that much…

\----

Patrol duty was the worst. Nothing ever happened, no one ever tried to bust in and no one ever made it out either. They had fences, guns, walls, and the authority of their fascist government. Who would be stupid enough to try and break into such a secure facility? Still, duty called, regardless of how pointless it seemed and they had to walk the perimeter and report anything suspicious. But nothing happened back here behind the laboratory buildings...

The two Nazi guards, Burkhard a model Aryan soldier, and Romulus a shaggy brown-headed recruit, strode lazily around the buildings following the fence line, chatting and bickering as they went. 

“Come on, let’s change our patrol route up a bit! Ya know, off the beaten path. It’s good for security!” Romulus said. 

“You’re just trying to get me in trouble… We’re not scheduled to check the labs,” Burkhard replied, exhausted by his partner’s incessant plans. 

“No, no, it’s all good. We have to check here. They’re just a bunch of nerds in there anyway, what are they going to do when some soldiers with guns come in? Play nice and dumb! It’ll be fun, come on! Let’s give them a scare,” Romulus cajoled. And Burkhard, already worn out from an entire shift with the idiot, decided he’d rather face the consequences of a hair-brained plan than try to talk him out of his idea. 

“Fine. Just a quick walkthrough and then we’ll go back to our normal route.” 

“Cool. Let’s go ruin some nerd’s day,” Romulus replied, a bit too happily. 

“Yeah, let’s…” Burkhard grumbled, already regretting going along with this plan. 

They walked in through the back door without knocking or announcing themselves and immediately heard a strange buzzing sound. They looked at each other but neither knew what it could be. They walked forward, seeing an open door to an examination room and when they turned through the threshold they both did a double-take at what they saw. 

A man, incredibly thin and unnaturally pale, hair silver-white and choppy, though his physical features were hardly what stood out. Instead, what drew and held their gazes were all the contraptions bound around him. He sat upright on a heavy industrial chair, legs bound around his knees and held apart with a spreader bar. His hands were also cuffed behind him and he wore a blindfold, a gag, ear muffs. His nipples were clamped with a chain between them and his dick was rigid, upright with a vein pulsing. There was a thick band around the base of his dick as well as a metal ring dangling from the tip. His cock was stuffed and pinched and plugged and had no way of orgasming but a vibrator had been strapped directly beneath the glans nonetheless. Beneath it, a menacingly large base of some sort of toy was lodged in his ass and held there with restraints around his hips and thighs to keep it inside. 

They both gaped at what they had walked into. 

The two soldiers stared, flabbergasted. The bound man was squirming and sobbing, hips straining against his bonds as if seeking relief, and he didn’t know they were there. They could turn around, return to their route, and pretend they had never walked in on this fucked up situation. But neither of them moved, neither said anything for over a minute, just watched the prisoner struggle. 

Romulus cleared his throat and spoke in hushed tones. 

“So...is this… normal for Nazis, or?”

“How would I know? I’ve never seen anything… Anything like this, I mean… What the fuck is going on…” 

“Well, it looks like someone’s been having fun on the Fuhrer’s time, that’s what.”

“Fun?” 

“Yeah, of course. Look at him. This is all kinky bondage shit. He’s not in an experiment, he’s being used as a toy.”

Burkhard didn’t ask how Romulus knew that or what it meant. Just stared at the bound man. 

“And this is a lab of prisoner scientists… So….?”

“I’m not following…” 

“They’re using this poor sap as their stress relief of course! They’re prisoners so they bully those below them. It’s obvious,” Romulus said, staring at the pale man with a hungry, dangerous look on his face. “But… That’s not allowed, is it Burkhard…” Romulus said slowly, a wide grin overtaking his face. 

“What are you talking about?”

“If they’re using subjects for this, we can take him off their hands. So they can focus on their real experiments, for the sake of the Fuhrer.” 

Burkhard felt a thrill of excitement and revulsion work through him at the same time. He knew what Romulus was saying. This wasn’t allowed in the first place and if they took him… Who would know?

Burkhard grinned back at Romulus. Suddenly his patrol routes started sounding a lot more fun…

“I got a spot where we can take him… No one ever goes there. He’ll be our little treat,” Romulus said.

Burkhard felt himself nodding, swallowing hard. They were really going to do it… But somehow he wasn’t surprised - there were so many atrocities in these camps, in this war, what would one more victim in a closet count for? If nothing else he could find some relief in this hellhole. 

“Alright, let’s take him there,” Burkhard said. 

“Really? You’re down? I knew you were cool…” Romulus said, already moving forward to take the cuffs off. “Leave everything else in, just enough to get him loose. Alright, here we go!” 

He and Burkhard hoisted the prisoner up between them easily, Burkhard holding under his armpits, Romulus carrying his bound legs, and marched off toward the back of the building where they entered. 

Romulus and Burkhard didn’t fail to notice how the prisoner didn’t lose his hard-on as they carried him out. His hips wriggled even as they walked and he seemed frantic to be touched.

“We’ve got ourselves a live one, eh?” Romulus said heartily, already aiming them towards another service door, headed to his special secret hidey-hole. 

Burkhard grunted in agreement, not wanting to admit how horny he was from seeing the bondage and the way the prisoner writhed. If he was doing all this perverted stuff by himself, what would he do with a pair of two warm cocks? Burkhard shivered in anticipation and happily followed Romulus down through the narrow utility halls and back hidden doors. Finally, they arrived at a lower level, the floors underground, only a flickering red emergency bulb lighting inside the hallway. Romulus pulled open a heavy iron door, hissing and clanking coming from within. 

It was the boiler room, or one of them. It was a small space but plenty of room for people around the base of the boiler, pipes, and siphons coming off it and going every which way into the walls. It was warm, sweaty from the boiler, and loud as well. It was no wonder anyone ever came down here. It was only accessible for inspection and nothing else. 

Perfect place to hide a fuckable toy. 

Romulus dropped his half without warning and the prisoner’s legs landed heavily on the cement floor. 

“Hng!”

“I’m going back to get some stuff. If we’re keeping him down here we’ll need a few supplies. Be right back. Don’t start without me!” Romulus said, already racing back down the corridor they came down. Burkhard was left in the stinking sweltering boiler room with the bound, sodomized prisoner. What was he supposed to do? 

Burkhard sighed and looked closer at the prisoner now that they weren’t running away. He could see that he had something protruding from his dick, a pull ring at the top. He was curious and grabbed it, pulling it up and eyes growing wide as it kept coming and coming out of the man’s dick, a long thin metal rod that went all the way to the base. When he finally extracted it he saw the prisoner jerk and deflate, his hips wriggling. 

Dangling the rod in the air, looking at his jerking twitching form, the German wondered aloud. 

“Damn, who trained you?” 

Gilbert choked on a sob, toes curling inward as he felt the rod being violently extracted - fuck, fuck! Fuck, that hurt so much, a high pitched whine escaping Gilbert as he panted heavily through his nose. 

Burkhard threw the rod aside. It would only just get in the way. Romulus had said not to start without him, but what about some nice decorations? Burkhard drew out his knife and held it over the prisoner’s sharp hip bone, digging in and drawing blood as he carved out a rudimentary swastika. He ignored the way he writhed, used a boot to hold him still while he carved living bleeding flesh. 

Gilbert violently flinched as he felt something sharp pierce the thin skin of his hip bone, it was a deep, searing pain; agonizing. Perhaps not more so than the rod. Gilbert could feel the warm blood seeping, pooling, and splatter on the concrete surface. Gilbert had to suck on the metal to stop any further noise escaping him, and yet it was difficult. 

Why was Ivan doing this to him? It wasn’t like him at all.

Romulus came back eventually, a chain, an army blanket, a canteen, and threw everything down onto the dirty cement. 

“Alright, got everything to keep our secret alive. Now, let’s see what he can do…” Romulus folded the blanket, making a small patch of fabric for him to lay on. He moved him roughly over, admiring his partner’s handiwork. 

“Nice swastika,” Romulus said. 

“Thanks,” Burkhard replied. 

Now came the real question, who got to fuck him first?

Gilbert felt a soft fabric along the curve of his ass, yet it was barely enough to cushion against the hard backbone of the surface. His cock twitched violently as he tried to hump the air. It was all Gilbert was ever good at. Perhaps this was another one of Ivan’s games, a strange room he didn't know of; it was warm, moist, and very noisy. 

Romulus and Burkhard were busy arguing over who got to rape Gilbert first. 

“Look, it was my idea and I carried him down here. It’s only fair.”

“ _ We  _ carried him down here, and I’m the one who knew about this spot so I should go first.”

Romulus’ face lit up with a wicked grin. 

“Why don’t we ask him who he would prefer?”

Burkhard was surprised Romulus would suggest it but then reconsidered who he was talking to. The soldier had a sadistic streak and wanted to interact with their victim in order to twist the knife a bit more. He pulled the earmuffs off, the gag as well, and then finally he removed the blindfold. Romulus grinned wider when he saw bleary scarlet eyes blinking back up at him. 

“Well, well, well, what do we have here? His eyes are freaky as fuck, look at him, Burkhard!” 

Gilbert groaned loudly as the earmuffs came off and soon enough, the gag, and surprisingly the blindfold - it took a moment for his eyes to truly adjust and the strange voices to filter into his ears. 

… What the…? 

"I-Ivan?" Gilbert croaked out, but it wasn't Ivan - he was looking at two Nazi officers looming over him, their expressions haunting as he fumbled backward, his back hitting against the heated radiator, hissing loudly. 

"W-where am I?! W-why the hell am I here?” Even through the initial shock, Gilbert still held his hard-on, the toy humming inside his ass and along his dick as his legs tried to shut out of fear more than anything, yet he couldn’t. 

The man on the right looked a lot like his brother though he could tell it wasn’t him, bright blue eyes, slick backed blond hair... Gilbert was desperate to be fucked, but not by these men. Not like this. But it wasn’t like he had much of a choice given the current situation, his head hung low. 

"Are you just going to s-stand there and gawp at me? I-I’ll do it quick, I’ll g-get you off - but bitte, don’t kill me.” Gilbert had felt this before, within that cage - he didn’t want to die, he wanted to survive! 

“He wants us to get it over with, Burkhard, what do you think?”

“I think that’d be too easy on the freak,” Burkhard stepped closer and pressed the heel of his boot against the freshly cut swastika. 

“Nah, we got a better use for you… Clearly you’ve been trained right?” Romulus kneeled to Gilbert’s level and grabbed him by the hair, keeping him from squirming away from Burkhard’s boot. “I mean look at you, still hard even now. It’s like you want all this attention, don’t you?”

Gilbert inhaled sharply as the polished boot pressed against the fresh wilting wound. 

“Maybe if you’re good and earn it we’ll put a bullet in your skull when we’re through,” Romulus said, looking forward to the fear that always followed after death threats. 

A bullet to the head. Fear struck through Gilbert’s heart like a strike of lightning, his heart aching. He had so much to live for, even if he was kept under lock and key with Ivan. Ivan was kind to him, gave him food, water, made him feel good. 

What more could Gilbert ever want?

“Please, I’ll be good…” Gilbert said steadily.

Romulus’ thick eyebrows shot up to his hairline, he glanced up at Burkhard, grin growing wider and more bloodthirsty by the second. 

“We shouldn’t keep the slut waiting, should we?” Burkhard said, stepping back to undo the fly of his pants and draw his curved dick out. 

“Fine, you have his mouth and I’ll check out his ass. Sit up, slut.” Romulus dragged him up so he was balanced on his knees, the spreader bar still there keeping them wide apart. 

Burkhard stepped closer and Romulus could hear enthusiastic sucking sounds right away. Romulus chuckled and spread the pale boy’s cheeks, gripping the buzzing toy lodged inside. He pulled it slightly out and then shoved it back inside, watching how his hips rocked forward, pinned between the two of them. 

Romulus pulled the toy out completely and gave a low whistle. 

“Fuck, look at the size of this thing he had in him! I bet being such a cock-slut a small one doesn’t do it for him anymore!” Romulus said, genuinely impressed. Burkhard laughed breathily in response but didn’t stop jerking Gilbert roughly over his length.

“Damn, he’s good with his mouth… Fuck!” 

“Really? I can’t wait to try. Alright, here I go!” Romulus knelt behind him and pressed his stiff cock into Gilbert’s ass. Despite the toy, he was still tight and gripping and so hot inside…

“His ass is great too, shit!” 

"D-danke, danke…!" Gilbert said in between his enthusiastic sucking, the cock wasn't as large as Ivan’s - which was a relief. Gilbert only thanked the soldiers for giving him a chance to live another second, let them give a false sense of admiration. 

His cock was only rewarded with bitter denial as he felt the other curly-haired man plunge his cock in his ass. It was like second nature now. This is what Gilbert was made for, this was the product Ivan had achieved with greater success. Gilbert's ass sucked him in as he moaned sloppily around the cock, his nose brushing against blond pubic hairs. With enthusiasm, Gilbert pressed the pulsing head deep within the back of his throat as he looked up at the soldier, curious if he was enjoying the attention.

Gilbert’s tied arms lingered around the body mass of the man thrusting behind him, his fingertips rested on something hard, cold, metallic, and rigid. It was a gun. Gilbert shuddered.

Romulus rammed into him, over and over, letting off all the built-up pressure from day to day life as a lowly foot soldier. Fucking into a tight ass was a reward for putting up with all the bullshit. 

He panted and laughed when he looked down and saw the prisoner’s bound hands feeling against his belt, the tips of his fingers plucking against the grip and hammer of his handgun. 

Romulus smiled evilly, slammed his hips hard until he was grinding against his ass, cock lodged deep inside. Breathed hot into the prisoner’s ear.

“So, you don’t want that lead bullet huh? You have to earn it, bitch.” Romulus gripped his hips hard, smearing blood from the swastika and ground into him over. He reached around to feel Gilbert’s front and was surprised when his hand tripped to feel a thick rubber band around the base of his rigid cock. 

“The fuck is this?” Romulus said before getting a hold of it between two fingers and pulling it off Gilbert’s turgid length. Immediately his ass clenched up around him, pulsing as he instantly orgasmed.

Gilbert almost bit down on the dick in his mouth at the sudden release of his own cock, his hips surging forward in a frantic rhythm as he rolled his hips in abandon, high from sex.

Burkhard was not amused to have suddenly gotten jizz on his uniform trousers. He pushed Gilbert back and stepped on his dick, squashing it away from him even as he continued to spasm and cum and cry. Burkhard shoved himself deep and plugged his throat, cutting off his oxygen.

“Fucking nasty slut, look at him, cumming from pain and dick. He deserves this…” 

Gilbert seized up, his ass clenching tight as the man above him choked the life out of him, seeing stars dance before his vision, the oxygen struggling to reach his lungs --

“Shit, fuck, Burkhard, you made him get so tiiiiight-  _ Ah _ !” Romulus let himself go, spurting deep into Gilbert as he continued to suffocate on Burkhard’s dick, twitching and jerking like a hooked fish between them. Burkhard stayed deep, let him suffer. He gripped his neck with one hand and crushed it, increasing the chokehold. His cock inside, fingers outside, he growled lowly as he watched Gilbert’s face change colors, red, purple, blue, eyes bulging and rolling back as he drowned on Burkhard’s dick. The power and domination were what set him off, his cock twitched deep inside Gilbert’s throat and his release spurted right down to his belly. 

He pulled out slowly, growling in satisfaction as his dick popped out, slick, wet, and warm. 

Gilbert felt light-headed as the soldier pulled out, hacking and coughing as he felt the warm liquid trickle down to his belly. A warm meal. Gilbert felt incredibly sensitive, his cock wilting with exhaustion as he tried to get his bearings again, mind fogged with sex. 

Romulus stood up, straightened himself up as Burkhard did the same. They glanced at each other and grinned.

There was no way they were gonna kill this man, not when they could get a free fuck whenever they wanted. Neither of them even had to say it, it was obvious. He could suck dick, get fucked, and begged to take it. Even when he was choking he never once even gave the hint of biting down. He was too good at what he did to give him the easy way out. 

“Alright, bitch. Here’s that gun you’ve been so hot for, what do you think?” Romulus hefted the gun in his hand, watched the prisoner’s eyes follow the barrel with caution. “So, what will it be, hm? A bullet to the head or do you want to survive another day?”

Gilbert’s wet eyes followed the narrow gun. 

It was a given, for Gilbert knew the answer. Gilbert swallowed nervously, for he wouldn’t know even if he did do this, the man would shoot him. 

Ivan… where are you?

Gilbert leaned up to kiss the barrel, head bowed. The barrel tasted like gunpowder, which meant it was recently used. His pink tongue slithered out to suck the tip with his moist lips. The powder was bitter. How many people had this man killed with this gun? 

Romulus watched with hooded eyes as the prisoner fellated the barrel of his gun. It was obvious the man wanted to live another day. Even when he was about to be executed he was sucking off the damn gun. Desperate bastard.

“That’s right, suck it, lick that barrel and I’ll let you live…” Romulus growled, jerking the gun forward so it hit the back of Gilbert’s throat, the hard edges of it scraping and catching against his soft wet flesh. 

“Hnn!” Gilbert could feel the gradual swell of blood pooling and ooze into his mouth in small trickles. Ivan… Ivan… where are you? Why aren’t you here?

“Bitte, b-bitte, b-bitte!” Gilbert grew frantic, the man above him didn’t seem persuaded at all.

Ivan…  _ Please! _

Romulus smiled sadistically, ramming the hard unforgiving metal down his throat. Even now, he was begging for it, Romulus couldn’t help but laugh as he started to pull the trigger.

“Alright, here it comes slut!” He crowed as the gun clicked and nothing happened. 

The gun wasn’t even loaded. 

Laughter rang throughout the boiler room.

Burkhard also thought it hilarious that Gilbert had been so terrified, a morbid expression that couldn’t help but be mocked at. 

Romulus pulled the gun back and let his hand fly, hitting the slut across the face with the butt of the stock instead. The pale prisoner was slammed to the floor by the blow.

“Nah, Don’t worry, little bird, you’ll be with us. You’re gonna stay here and be our toy, got it, bitch?” 

Romulus kicked him in the middle of his chest, sending him falling back against the steel heated wall of the boiler. He kicked him again, leaving his boot there so he was forced tight against the burning metal, squeezing his flesh to the scalding surface.

The iron burning his skin hissed as he tried to relieve the pain from his skull

“Don’t worry, we’ll kill you once we’re done. You're just too good at what you do, it would be a spoil to waste talent like that.”

“Alright, enough. I still want to try his ass too.” Burkhard said, not wanting Romulus to go too far. The crying was grating on his ears. 

Romulus leaned back on his heels and let the prisoner slide back down to the ground, finally freeing him from the hot iron where he crumpled like a wet doll. 

“Yeah. I want him to polish me off too. Alright, slut, back to work!” Romulus grabbed the prisoner by his white hair and pressed the gun to his teeth to get his jaw open up again. 

Burkhard grabbed his hips, dragged him back around, knees skidding and skinning on the rough cement, until he was in place and without any other warning he pressed his revived cock inside, slipping in easily over the slick from Romulus’ leavings. 

Gilbert seized, felt his body tightening up with white-hot, searing pain as a sob left his lips. 

“N-nein, nien!” 

“Yes… Open up now,” Romulus growled, pushing the gun in deeper, angling it to leverage the slut’s mouth. Once there was room Romulus pushed his cock past his lips, still wet and slick from the prisoner’s ass and he laughed at the way he gagged at the taste. He slid his cock down his throat, swelling and growing larger as his dick revived back to full size.

“Alright, now show me what you got, slut. Get me off with that pretty mouth of yours.” Romulus pulled the gun out of the way so fully access the prisoner's mouth.

Gilbert’s eyes burned, as soon as the gun was removed he bit down hard on the appendage insulting his mouth, feeling it crunch hard beneath his teeth as he wrenched his head back with force. Maybe Ivan was still looking for him but didn’t know where to look or even start.

“Grahhh!!” Romulus gave a horrifying roar, pulling his bruised bleeding dick out in an instant, backhanding Gilbert viciously across the face before turning to curse and cover his injured cock, sinking to his knees with a groan.

“You’re gonna pay for that…” He hissed from his wincing hunched over ball. 

Burkhard laughed at his friend’s misfortune, never once stopping his thrusts even when Gilbert toppled over from the blow. He put a heavy hand over his neck, pinning his hips down. With his other hand, he forced two more fingers next to his cock, stretching Gilbert ever wider as he thrust into him.

“S-stop, stop!” Gilbert cried, no longer trying to appease these dangerous men.

“No, no, no…. You’re gonna take it, you’re gonna take all of it, bitch. You shouldn’t have bitten him, now he’s gonna gut you slow. Ah, fuuuck...” Burkhard crushed him down hard and slammed violently into him. The soldier still had a while before he would cum again, now it was more about hurting their victim. 

“The filthy little whore, look at what he did to me! Fuuuuck! It fucking hurts! Shit, I’m gonna kill him!” Romulus staggered over, hand still cupped over his limp dick, and stomped hard on the prisoner’s prone head, grinding his skull into the cement, twisting back and forth as if trying to squash a bug while Burkhard kept up the pulsating, pounding tempo.

Gilbert choked, sobbed, and wailed as his body was violently assaulted - but did he regret biting the officer’s dick? No. Gilbert took pride in it that he had, even as his skull was met with a heavy boot. 

Blood began to seep within his eye, perhaps from a cut from his head. His legs flailed frantically as the officer wrenched his cock, squeezing the very life out of it as he arched into his hands, tears dripping down his face and nose in a moist mess as he wailed like a dying pig.

_ Ivan, please! Please, save me! Save me before it’s too late! _

_ I love you! _

Romulus pulled his boot back, panting heavily. 

“Hold him up. I’m gonna cut his prick off…” 

Burkhard wrenched the thin man up by the neck, settling him in his lap and sheathing his dick, sitting snug with his ass filled. The blond-haired soldier held him back by an iron fist around his cuffed wrists, his other hand grabbing him by the hair forcing his head up and back. The man was held open so he was left vulnerable to whatever abuse Romulus wanted to apply. 

“Please, n-nien!  _ Ivan _ !” Gilbert sobbed uncontrollably. 

“Who the fuck is this Ivan?”

Romulus let his boot crash down on Gilbert’s groin, kicking him and crushing his balls repeatedly, not satisfied by the squeals of pain coming from him. Not even when the shriveled prune vomited from testicular agony.

“This  _ Ivan  _ won’t be saving you, not from us.”

Romulus was recovering from his own pain, getting angrier the more stomps he landed on the little bug. However, he had to stop kicking and knelt down to start throwing punches instead, exhausted; enjoying the sensation as his fists buried into his shriveled belly, his ribs, his face, gott, that freaky fucking face. He wanted to smash it to smithereens. 

Gilbert swelled like a plum, eventually passed out from the brutal beating as he laid there spread open like a limp doll. Gilbert couldn’t feel more broken even if he tried. He was frightened of the darkness that swam in his vision and could feel the officer's hot panting breath against the nape of his neck.

Gilbert tried to grasp onto anything to keep his eyes open but his body couldn’t handle the intense pain anymore as the world went dull.

The prisoner went limp, gurgling blood, seeming to finally succumb to the beating. 

Romulus wasn't satisfied. He looked at his bloody knuckles and sneered, going to his belt to pull out a knife. 

The soldier grabbed Gilbert's limp member, scraped and bruised as he took the fine point of the blade and held it against the opening on the top, ready to plunge the blade inside the soft skin.

Burkhard blanched at the sight, feeling himself start to lose his hard-on. He didn't care what happened to the prisoner but he refused to witness something like that.

"Seriously Romulus?! Don't you dare do that shit while I'm in him. You might sink it too deep and then we'll both end up with damaged dicks."

Romulus growled impatiently.

"FINE. I'm still going to cut him though…" Instead of the knife going through the center, Romulus dragged the blade over the soft surface, watched with amazement as blood gushed from the cuts as he sliced into the loose skin of his cock. 

Burkhard was relieved he didn't have to watch Romulus bisect another man's penis and quickly regained his rhythm once the threat of that had passed. 

Gilbert felt himself surge back into reality as he felt expansive pain.

The sensation was indescribable as he felt the blood spew from the sides of his cock, his thighs were drenched with thin rivers of blood as he wailed like a strangled animal, his head smacking into the man that fucked his ass. The sounds coming from his lips were inhuman.

Maybe they were right, maybe Ivan wasn’t going to save him? Maybe he had to scream louder...

Gilbert’s eyes went cross-eyed as his toes curled, could feel the blood dribble down to his legs and ankles, to the tips of his feet as pearls of blood danced on the floor in a slow momentum.

“Yes, scream bitch. That’s what you get. Look at him dancing, haha! Must feel good, huh Burkhard?” 

“Yeah, he’s squeezing me so tight - I’m gonna cum again, shit…” 

Romulus snarled in frustration. 

“Because of this bitch I’m not gonna be able to fuck for a week! I can’t believe he gave you a good blow job, even gives my gun some decent service and then he just bites me instead.”

“It’s his own deathwish, you promised him an escape, not an empty gun,” Burkhard grunted, still working his hips as he got closer to his release. 

“Yeah, well after this  _ SHIT  _ he’s not gonna get anything. If he wants to die, then we’re gonna keep him alive. But only just. Just enough for this…” Romulus smeared the blood-drenched cock, watched the drops patter down to the tip, and drip off the end with wild satisfaction.

Burkhard gave a final heave and came silently, sighing into the hair on Gilbert’s nape. He lifted the prisoner off him and shoved him forward, chuckling as he landed face down, legs still sprawled open as a line of cum dribbling from his ass. Feeling some sort of morbid remorse, he unclipped the spreader bar and finally let the man collapse onto the floor. 

The only thing that kept him restrained were the cuffs still shackled behind his back. 

The albino heaved, he couldn’t move his legs even as the spreader bar was removed. Everywhere hurt, hurt, hurt… He could feel his body surging in and out of consciousness, as if he was floating - he was hot and terribly cold, could hear the men speak above him but he couldn’t hear what they were saying. His eyes looked ahead at a steaming boiler, his eyes unseeing as they swelled with blood.

The two Nazis stood and smoked a cigarette in the boiler room, discussing the prisoner as if he was livestock.

“Look, I don’t care if you kill him or not, but if we’re gonna keep it around I don’t want to fuck some nasty dickless wound.”

“What about his eyes? They were red, some devil is in him I’m sure, gonna gouge them out so he can’t glare at me with them.”

Burkhard pulled a face, disgusted by the thought. 

“Why are you so insistent on maiming him? Think about it, two gaping holes instead? That would be a huge turn-off.”

“Maybe for you…”

“Ugh, Romulus… Come on. I’m going to use him too. Don’t be so over the top.”

“Fine. I’ll keep it light for you since you’re such a pillow princess. We’ll start by keeping count,” He said deviously, staring at Gilbert’s pale ass. “Once my dick is back in action I’m gonna catch up, understand?” 

“Fine whatever. As I said, I don’t care. I just don’t want to fuck an amputee, got it?

“Yeah, yeah, I got it…” Romulus knelt with the cigarette balanced on the side of his lip and hefted his knife up again to slice a cut over the meatiest area on Gilbert’s ass, only an inch long. 

“That was mine, then Burkhard you got two off, bastard.” Romulus cut two more times next to the first, three bleeding tally marks carved directly onto his ass. He stood and gave him a hard kick in the side to finish it off. 

“There… I think I’m finally starting to feel better.”

“Finally. I couldn’t stand to hear you moan the rest of the shift.”

“Speaking of, we should get back… Chain our little bitch up, won’t you?” Romulus tossed him the coil of chain which Burkhard slung and locked around a pipe, the other end looped through the circle of Gilbert’s handcuffs. He stubbed the last of his cigarette out on Gilbert’s back, enjoying how he flinched from the burn. 

“Alright little bitch, sleep tight~ We’ll come back later to play some more…”

Gilbert whimpered as he heard the metal coil before seeing it, his arms drawn in an uncomfortable position -- the only thing the albino could be thankful for was he on his stomach, his face hidden within the cement of the floor as he felt his soul leave his body. 

Where was Ivan? Hadn’t he been a good boy? Did… he do something to deserve this?

Perhaps the wrong thing was just simply existing and breathing. 

Gilbert moaned in pain, choked on a loud sob feeling immense despair overcome him.

Why hadn’t Ivan saved him yet? Where was he? Had he forgotten about Gilbert already?

Gilbert was left alone with spiraling thoughts, falling into a restless sleep that had him leaving one eye open.

Gilbert didn’t move much at all when the officers left him. 

He sniffled, being alone he’d learned the best way to cope was to dissociate himself - but even then, the pain he went through was more than enough for Gilbert to lurch back into reality.

Gilbert groaned as he slowly opened his eyes, restless, it was difficult to focus on anything; but he could see the dildo not too far from him, a huge, massive, plastic thing; it was perhaps Gilbert's first time actually seeing it outside of his body. The offending object made Gilbert cringe.

The sudden urge and desire to make it go away was overwhelming for Gilbert as he decided enough was enough. He forced his aching limbs to move, blood dragging and smearing along the floor as he pulled the upper half of his body along, slowly and surely; although out of breath, the albino made it just barely to the toy, stifling a groan as he tried to army crawl without using his hands -- it was a difficult task, but it was worthy, for Gilbert used the edge of his foot to hold the plastic toy against the hot boiler, immensely enjoying watching the hot plastic bubble and melt into a thin puddle of nothing.

It was a small, minor victory; but it made Gilbert’s aching chest swell with pride.

One more, daunting little object to go…

Where was it?

Gilbert slowly sat up, hissing in pain to only fall back on his back, his ribs soaring with pain as he let out a teeth-clenching scream. 

Fuck, fuck. Fuck.

Gilbert moved his jaw about as if he could still feel the soft appendage in his mouth, laughing softly at the officer’s demise as he hunched over to cradle his blue balls. Ivan would have been so proud of him! He deserved it, the mother fucker; getting his hopes up, what did he expect?

Ivan… Gilbert frowned.

The albino turned his head to face the rusted, metallic boiler; he could just barely see himself, and boy - what an ugly, fucked up sight he was. He could just barely see, for both of his eyes were swelling shut, chest and face bruised, teeth missing, blood… Gilbert had to look away from his own reflection. 

Gilbert sighed, exhausted with his thoughts.

Gilbert searched for the sounding rod, although it was difficult with his minimal vision - given, he found it and it was a good few meters apart from where the dildo had been.

The albino managed to maneuver himself, for the tips of his toes touched the brink of the metal rod; next to it, there was a drain pipe.

A little nudge.

Yes! 

Gilbert grinned, hearing the metallic rod clink to the bottom. 

The sound was utterly and absolutely relieving.

Gilbert’s throat felt parched from the screaming and shouting, taking a brief glance at his dick, wincing at the poor sight of it. Above his ragged breathing, he could hear the soft pitter-patter of water droplets hitting the concrete floor, eyelashes fluttering opening as he leaned in, intently listening for the sound. 

Water, fucking, water! Gilbert could have sobbed with joy as he found the metal pipe leaking on the other side of the room - it would be a trek to get there, but one worthwhile as he set course to do another army crawl on his stomach toward the sound. Blood streaked after him like a snail trail as he reached to the leaking pipe, scooting his head under the drip and opening his mouth to let the droplets land on his dry tongue. The water was warm and brackish but still felt like a blessing after being edged and dehydrated for so long before he’d been kidnapped.

Satisfied, numb with pain, Gilbert fell asleep; the water droplets landing on his forehead as he fell into a state of unconsciousness.

\----

Ivan strode back to the examination room in order to relieve Gilbert. His little guinea pig had been so good lately, could take him ass or mouth at any moment with deft skill and zero complaints. Edging him and giving him a massive release was a treat he couldn’t wait to bestow. 

When he turned the corner into the room he stopped short, violet eyes growing wide. Gilbert was gone! His shackles empty, the chair vacant, not a trace of him. He turned back and strode quickly down the hall toward the front of the lab. He burst in on Feliks who was sorting some documents by the bookshelf in the front foyer. He covered the space between them in three long steps and he felt none of the usual pleasure from seeing Feliks’ eyes grow wide in fear at his approach. No, Gilbert was more important. He snagged the small blond by the neck and slammed him against the bookshelf he’d just been perusing. 

“Feliks, darling, can you tell me who you let into this facility?” 

The secretary choked and coughed, eyes wide with well-trodden fear. 

“I’m sorry Ivan, I didn’t let anyone in! No one has come at all! Please, please, I’m not lying!” 

“Gilbert’s gone missing.”

“I PROMISE you! No one came from the front! Believe me, Ivan, you know I would tell you!” 

Ivan let go of his neck and stroked his cheek instead, cradling his face as he felt hot tears run over his fingers. 

“I believe you…” Ivan said, giving him a caress before ripping his hand back with an open-handed slap across the face, the loud crack of it snapped through the room. “And it’s still your job to notice who comes and goes... I’ll deal with you after we find him,” Ivan ground out, already turning to the back of the lab. Feliks was heaped on the ground where Ivan had slapped him down, holding and rubbing his cheek with two hands, crying and sniffing quietly. 

Next, Ivan rounded on Ravis in the library. He was busy compiling data from all his experiments and computing formulas over a desk. When Ivan barged into the room he hunched and froze, already feeling the anger radiating from the huge man. He was silent and let his shoulder hunch up as if to absorb a blow. 

“I-Ivan… W-what’s-?”

Ivan closed the space and slammed his head down to the desk by the back of his neck in one fluid motion. 

“Gilbert’s missing. You know he didn’t walk off by himself. Where did he go? Who came in here and saw him?” Ivan ground out in low tones.

Ravis shivered in fear, head throbbing and spinning from the sudden assault. He had no idea! He hadn’t heard anything! He was always trapped in this dark depressing room, not even a single window. How would he know? But he couldn’t say any of that to Ivan. Technically he was closest to Gilbert, but it was through so many doors between them he hadn’t heard anything. 

“I didn’t hear anything…. Really Ivan, I didn’t... Who… What happened? Who could have even gotten in here?” Ravis asked, knowing turning Ivan’s questions back on themselves meant he spent more time pondering than punching. And sure enough, he paused to think about it. 

“The back… The patrols…” Ivan turned and stormed off as quickly as he came, releasing him without a backward glance, like a sudden summer storm. Ravis shuddered and tried to breathe in his seat. Every day it was like this, no matter what he did Ivan was always looming and jumping out at them unexpectedly. He could never relax. It was like living in a horror film. One jumpscare after another. 

Still, who had taken Gilbert? He doubted the poor albino could walk on his own. He’d spent too many nights with Toris cleaning wounds and bandaging him to believe he had escaped under his own power. 

Ivan ran to the back and burst through the exit doors, scanning left and right but of course his guinea pig wasn’t there. He turned and came back into the lab, face stony and murderous. Toris rounded the corner and noticed a half-second too late how dangerous Ivan’s mood was as he approached. 

He grabbed Toris by the throat and slammed him against the wall, flipping him and dragging his pants down in a scant few seconds. Toris gasped and felt his head spinning with fear confusion, why was this happening? Ivan hadn’t bothered him for months… Not since Gilbert… Oh, Gilbert… Something must have happened…

Sure enough, as Ivan gripped his hips and shoved his cock between his thighs, fucking the soft warm gap there, he growled into Toris’ ear. 

“Gilbert’s missing… You know what that means, right Toris? If you don’t want to take over his duties, I suggest you get busy finding him…” 

“I-I’ll find him, Ivan, I’m sorry, I didn’t know… But, the cameras… “

“The cameras… You’re right… Smart boy…” Ivan growled, crushing him harder against the wall, thrusting faster. Toris hated it, but knew it was a light alternative to what Ivan could typically deal out. Gilbert had shouldered the brunt of that sadism and madness for the better part of a year. He was torn between elation at news of Gilbert’s escape, while simultaneously feeling terrified by the position that left him in. Especially with Ivan’s massive dick sliding between his legs, there was no denying how quickly he would revert to that role. 

He shuddered, clenched his thighs tighter, trying to give Ivan something more satisfying. 

_ Please don’t fuck me, please, please, please….  _

Ivan pulled away without going any further.

“Alright, come on, and let’s check the cameras.” Ivan turned and ignored the way Toris slid down, trying to catch his fallen pants, tears in his eyes. 

“Yes sir,” Toris said glumly, trotting after Ivan and buttoning his pants as he followed with trembling fingers. 

What had happened? Had Gilbert seriously gone missing?

Ivan rolled back the tape from the room, Toris winced seeing Gilbert’s set up on the screen, sounding, spreader bad, a vibrator… Jesus… It was just overkill. Then two men entered, couldn’t see their faces until they started ripping Gilbert out of the chair. Then one turned around, his face glowing with lust and gloating, brown curly hair framing his sculpted face. Ivan’s eyes narrowed as he took in the one who had taken his pet. 

Ivan turned on the spot and left through the back. He knew who to look for now. Knew it was a Nazi soldier, low rank, someone who had no business entering his lab in the first place, let alone putting a finger on his subject. He exited the back and looked both ways, sizing up the next closest service entrance. He went straight over and opened the door, striding into a building he’d never entered before. He had no fear. He had chosen to come here, his lab coat and his size and his lack of fear granted him access to many places most prisoners would not. 

He sniffed the air, as if trying to smell Gilbert, and turned down into a stairwell when he came to one at the end of the hall. Surely they would have taken him down as if to hide him somewhere… Sure enough, as he stepped down into the lower basement hall, lit only by infrequent service lamps, he saw two figures walking toward him. 

“I’m telling you, he fucking  _ bit  _ me. It’s not worth it to try and train up someone like that. Let’s just cut his tongue out and gag him until we’re done-”

“What IS it with you and cutting off body parts? If you do that he’ll die so much faster. Just leave him tied up and use his ass-”

“I CAN’T use his ass because the bitch bit me, don’t you get it?” 

“Yeah, yeah, I get you can’t be more creative than that…” 

“Why, you…”

“Officers…” Ivan said slowly, making himself known. They both started, not expecting someone in the hallway. “I think you have something of mine…” 

Romulus smirked, recognizing the lab coat, the disgruntled predatory face. He recognized his own. 

“So, that unruly bitch is yours then? Should have done a better job. He nearly bit my dick right off, and that was after giving him-” Romulus jerked at Burkhard beside him, “The best blow job of his life. We’re just asking for consistency here...“ 

“Da, well, it’s hard to keep control on an experiment when he’s ripped out of that laboratory setting. Who knows what could happen then…”

“Cut the shit… I know that you’ve been doing all sorts of unregulated shit with him for a while now. We’re just having our turn now. What will you do? Report us? To who? You're a prisoner here too!”

“And you, apparently, are a homosexual.” 

Romulus scoffed at that though his eyes did flash dangerously. Burkhard beside him looked nervous as well. 

“I’m not gay, just trying to get off in the only warm hole I can find in this place. I bet he won’t stay in your lab if I tell them how I found him. Nah, he’ll just get sent to a labor camp to starve and die, and maybe you will too, Russian scum…”

Romulus strode forward, pulling his handgun and brandishing it. After using it as a replacement for his cock, it suddenly felt more powerful watching the large pale man grimace and back up in the face of it. 

“Look, neither of us need to say anything, right? The bitch will stay put and we can all use him. We can take shifts even. It’s that or we turn each other in and no one gets him. I’m not giving up because that slut owes me after biting me.”

“He really bit you?”

“Ja, right on the dick, wanna see? Check for internal damage?”

“That’s quite alright, I’ll let the barrack nurses take care of you. I’m just surprised he still had it in him. I was quite sure I trained it out of him after he bit me…” Ivan said, raising his own hand so the circular bite marks over the back of his hand were visible. 

“Guess he doesn’t generalize very well,”

“Guess not…” Ivan was fuming at having his toy taken away, but he also couldn’t help but be excited. He recognized the kindred glint in this soldier’s eyes. He might be reasoned with, for a pound of flesh. 

“I can help. I was the one who trained him after all. None of us want to lose him right? I’ll keep him docile and you keep our secret so we can all use him, how does that sound?”

“Do any fucking funny business and I’ll shoot your brains out and claim self-defense, got it?” Romulus cocked the gun, still very much empty but the doctor didn’t need to know that. 

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m quite experienced. I believe we can come to arrangement gentlemen,” Ivan said, unafraid of the handgun. Now, it was about slicing the pie and if he wanted the largest piece he couldn’t show fear. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a light at the end of the tunnel, but he can't see it yet. :(
> 
> Thank y'all!


	9. Chapter 9

Burkhard slipped back down to the boiler room after he finished his shift with Romulus and they parted ways. While Romulus went off to the barracks to nurse his dick and cook up an act of disgusting revenge, Burkhard wanted to have another taste without his constant complaining and cruelty in his ear. With what Romulus had been talking about all day during their shift Burkhard wasn’t sure how long their fuck toy would last before he broke, with the rate and savagery that Romulus described earlier. 

“This is my only source of entertainment around here! Besides our little toy, there’s nothing but strict rules. Murder just ain’t the same anymore! Doesn’t give me that thrill, ya know?”

“So what, you’re just gonna keep cutting him up until he’s too disgusting to fuck?”

“Knives and guns can only go so far, my friend,” Romulus winked at him and nudged him in the ribs. The low sound of baying dogs echoed in the distance, chasing some prisoner on the run no doubt. Suddenly Romulus stopped him and grabbed his arm as if struck with inspiration. 

“Barracks!” 

“...Barracks?” Burkhard replied, not following. 

“Fuckin’ brilliant! Oh, Ivan’s going to love this one…”

Burkhard hadn’t failed to notice how quickly Romulus and Ivan sized each other up and agreed upon what they saw in the other. They were both monsters wearing friendly smiles, moving through the world with normal people not even noticing until they became a victim. But Burkhard noticed. And he wanted nothing to do with it. He wasn’t above a free fuck, but cutting body parts off, getting others involved, selling him… It was just too much for him to even want to think about. Let alone be the one to set the dogs on him. 

Why couldn’t Romulus just be happy with a simple fuck? Getting bitten brought out his bloodlust and Burkhard doubted Gilbert would live long now that it had resurfaced. 

So he took his leave from Romulus after their shift, slipped down to the hidden room, and opened the door with a creak. Burkhard saw how the prisoner was curled up in a fetal position on the floor, curled in on himself as if to shield himself from the world. He didn’t feel any pity, only disgust. He wasn’t going to last long, and after Romulus and Ivan were finished with him Burkhard doubted he’d want to stick his dick in him after that. 

Once he entered the boiler room he strode over and kneeled over the albino, pressed a gloved finger into his ass, and smiled at the tiny moan it pushed from his throat. He pressed in two fingers, then three, all of it easily accommodated. Burkhard smiled, he was already well trained, no need to do any prep. 

Gilbert continued to sleep as Burkhard rolled him onto his stomach, laid over him, and without any other warning guided his dick to the wet hole and sank in with a groan. He began slowly working his hips, grinding and grinding him into the hard ground. His cock twitching and growing inside him as he became more aroused from the hot grip encasing him. 

Gilbert moaned, a weak, keening sound at the back of his throat - he was a light sleeper, ever since Ludwig had left him here, but he was so exhausted he hadn’t awoken until he was already being fucked. Gilbert's swollen eyes peering from the two slits, all he could see was a black mass; undefined details. He could feel his ruined walls cling onto the dick inside him as if he was made custom-fit for it. 

At least… at least, somewhat… This man was almost being gentle with him, or so it seemed in Gilbert’s mind. It was difficult to get an erection even as the pounding became feverish, hitting that sweet, deep bundle that made Gilbert see stars. Gilbert panted and moaned like a bitch in heat. His cock wanted to spring with life, yet it was sore, so very sore as he allowed the man above him to do as he pleased with his body, utterly emotionally, mentally, and physically exhausted. 

\----

After finally letting Feliciano in, he was a constant in Ludwig’s life and despite his many efforts, he could not get the red-head Italian to leave him alone. His lust was insatiable, his experience deep and wide, and every time they had an encounter Ludwig learned something new about himself. Learned something new about sex. 

It made Gilbert’s death hurt in even more specific ways. Whenever Feliciano did anything with him, Ludwig couldn’t help imagining it was Gilbert, that his brother was still alive and he was the one begging him to pound him into the bed, not Feli. 

Despite the pleasure, Ludwig felt that it was a deep distraction; he simply couldn’t get over the terms of his brother's death. It was all his fault. There wasn’t even peace of mind when Ludwig distracted himself with his duties; it was more death, screaming, crying, ear-splitting gunshots that vibrated his eardrums. 

The more Ludwig managed to do, the easier it had become on the heart, less mournful of those more unfortunate than him, but Gilbert’s position in his heart never swayed.

Feliciano was writhing on the bed beneath Ludwig, body arching up to meet his every thrust, and felt like he could see stars from the way it sparked pleasure through him. His beautiful blond had gotten so good at it so quickly, soaking up his sexual education like a horny sponge. But, no matter how good it felt, there was always a tinge of sadness to their encounters. Despite being balls-deep in him, Ludwig still kept him at arm’s length when it came to his heart. It made Felicano want in even more, like a cat denied access he would keep yowling and scratching at the door until he was finally let in. For now, dragging his nails down Ludwig’s back would have to suffice. He smirked watching Ludwig’s mouth shudder open from the sharp sensation amid all the softness and leaned up on his elbows. He was so close...

Ludwig was lurched out of his thoughts, Feliciano’s lips almost touched his own - but he was fast to snap into action, pinning the small man’s upper body down to the bed as his hips continued to thrust in a steady rhythm.

“What did I tell you about that, Feli?”

Feli pouted at the man holding him down, though he was pleased to have his full attention on him once again. "Is it your brother?"

Ludwig stopped his frantic thrusting, his forearms subtly shaking at the mention of Gilbert.

"I get that he's your family, Ludwig - but you need to accept--”

“Don’t you dare, I don't need advice from you about my brother,” Ludwig ground out. 

"L-Ludwig..." Feli said, sadness and sympathy, "You’re only going to keep going in a spiral if you keep thinking like this, I see the sadness in your eyes, how you try to numb it - I have a brother too! I wouldn't know what I'd do without him, so.... so I have no idea what you’re going through right now, but it’s been months now - you still won't even let me kiss you!" Feli said with a pout.

“You know- nothing! You selfish bastard, you have no idea what he means to me! The last thing I ever gave him was a kiss!” Ludwig swore, eyes glowing in the dark as his body tensed with anger.

Feli instantly assumed he was referring to a familial embrace since he and Lovino did it all the time with greetings and goodbyes. He knew it was hard, but the sudden outburst was still out of proportion. It was also completely different from what Feliciano wanted to do! Ludwig just needed to trust him. 

“But please, Ludwig, he’s dead, I can help you move on-”

Ludwig felt his hand withdraw and rise over his head, ready to snap it forward and slap Feliciano’s cheekbone - but he stopped before he went any further; his eyes widened as he realized what he had been about to do. He lowered his hand and rubbed at his eyes instead, shifting back, pulling out, giving Feli and himself some space.

“Go home, Feliciano,” Ludwig said quietly without looking at him.

“L-Lud--” Feliciano reached for him, realizing he went too far, it was still too tender, he was going to lose Ludwig if he pushed any further, and the violence he saw flare there frightened him a little. But, he knew he didn’t mean it. He knew he wouldn’t hurt him, he was just in pain himself. “Please…”

“I said  _ GET OUT _ !” Ludwig snapped, shouted louder than necessary as he watched the concern shift to fear in the Italian’s brown, doe-wide eyes.

Feliciano jumped, hand pulling back to his chest as he scurried to pick up his clothes. He was more frightened of scaring Ludwig away by pushing too hard, rather than any sort of violence he might face, but still unsure what Ludwig was going to do if he didn’t leave, didn’t want to test his patience. He slunk out the front door and shut it behind him, pressed back against the door, and let out a shaky breath as he wondered what their relationship would be like now. By pushing too hard had he ruined everything?

Ludwig collapsed on the bed as Feliciano left the room, the bed creaking with his heavy weight as he felt a strange, distorted noise leave his lips and reach his ears as he grasped onto the bedsheets, knuckles turning white as he felt the waterworks again.

Oh, how Ludwig despised crying. How vulnerable and weak it made him feel.

….But no matter how hard he could try to avoid it, Feliciano was right. 

Ludwig’s shoulders heaved and quivered as the painful reminder that his brother was no longer with him. His only blood, his big brother... Was dead.

That night Ludwig struggled to sleep, eyes raw from the pent up crying; leaving the bed had been the hardest, every motion stifled as he put on his uniform, washed his face, fed the puppies, and left for work. 

Ludwig wasn’t even sure how he was going to confront Feliciano about the outburst, he had never considered himself someone who would do such a thing. But he had undoubtedly pulled his arm back to swing at him before he’d even really made the conscious choice. It frightened him to not have control over himself, that he would ruin a friendship over it.

Would Feliciano even want to be his friend after that? Ludwig held his breath, accepting the fact he would be a lone soldier walking through life with a numb heart.

\----

The men didn't stop coming after that restless night, although most of the time Gilbert found it saved more energy to accept what was happening to him; and who was doing him. Thick, thin, fat, hairy, and burly men came into this little dungeon as they raped Gilbert like a pack of wolves. 

Gilbert had never felt so disgusted in himself, in his body as his ass gasped and twitched when a cock wasn’t inside of him.

Gilbert missed his family, missed Ivan’s soft voice and encouraging words as his phantom hand caressed his silver hair, leaning into his large, comforting arms. Gilbert missed Ivan’s cock most of all; how it made him feel, no matter how many penetrated his abused hole, there was never that immense satisfaction only Ivan could bring.

Ivan…

Where was he? Hadn’t he noticed he was gone yet? Gilbert gasped wetly at a particularly hard thrust before falling slack once more. He was disgusting, reeked of alcohol, cigarettes, and all things foul as his body was ravaged, legs sprawled open as his body dragged on the floor in up and down motions… rinse and repeat.

Ivan...

It kept happening for so long, in the boiler room time was unknowable. He prayed for Ivan so often that when he actually appeared he seemed like an angel of death. 

Ivan stooped into the room and sucked in over his teeth in displeasure. Romulus had already started selling his product, his finely tuned instrument. He’d agreed to the arrangement thinking it would be more select, that he would be more involved, but it seemed Romulus just posted direction in the urinals and all the sleazebags came out of the woodworks to have a taste. 

There was no control to it, no keeping track, no profit, no pleasure. Gilbert was well-trained certainly, and he was proud of that fact, but having him available to everyone cheapened him. He didn’t know if he wanted him back after this, being tainted by so many men…

Ivan kneeled, brushed his head, spoke quietly to wake him from his stupor. 

“Gilbert, sweet puppy, can you hear me?”

Gilbert could barely hold the weight of his head as he heard Ivan’s voice; was he hallucinating? Gilbert managed to crack a smile and open his swollen eyes.

“Ivan… You're here… B-bitte, take me home…”

“How many dicks have you had, Gilbert?” Ivan asked softly, still stroking his hair, moving his hand down to cup his dirty cheek and lift his head, force their eyes to meet. His scarlet eyes were already so tarnished. With his brand of training, when he looked into Gilbert’s eyes there was fear but there was also worship, there was love. His eyes shone with a myriad of emotions, all the different facets he could gaze upon depending on how he tilted him, how he held him in the light. These men didn’t care at all, they wasted Gilbert’s devotion, his obsession. Kept him locked in this dingy room to be used as a sleeve and nothing more. 

Such a shame…

Gilbert moaned softly as Ivan caressed him, leaning eagerly into his palm. It took Gilbert a moment to comprehend what Ivan was asking.

“I… uh, dunno… I miss you, Ivan… I want your cock, make me feel alive again… I don’t like it here… I thought I was being a good puppy? Why…” Gilbert asked in his broken voice.

“You weren’t being good enough, Gilbert. This happened because of all the times you talked back, all the times you struggled and blamed me, all the times you dared to fight back… It’s all here for you now. I heard Romulus was keeping count by making cuts. Let’s count how many times you’ve betrayed me, hmmm?” Ivan ground out, voice a low soft simmer of jealous rage. He knew it wasn’t Gilbert’s fault, he couldn’t have done anything to stop himself from being kidnapped, but Ivan needed someone to blame seeing him reduced to such a state, being taken away from him so abruptly and unceremoniously. Even if it wasn’t Gilbert’s fault, he still blamed him. And Gilbert would feel that guilt, whether he deserved it or not. 

Hearing Ivan’s voice shame him turned Gilbert’s stomach upside down.

_ Not good enough? _

Those words struck through him like a lightning bolt, tears forming at the corners of his eyes the more he understood those haunting words.

“I-I’m sorry- I’m so sorry I was wrong, I’m so sorry…”

Gilbert struggled to say anything more than apologies, the words he wanted to say weren’t coming to him as wet tears rolled down his hollowed cheekbones. He wanted to say more, needed to say more for his pathetic excuses for betraying Ivan the way he did-- he was so wrong, but his lips moved without the words flowing out as they should.

“Is that all you have to say for yourself?” Ivan asked. “I want to know. How many. Did you even keep track? Do you even care? Venereal disease is killing more allied fighters than combat and you think I want to take you back when you don’t even know how used you are?” 

Most of what Ivan had said to Gilbert was incoherent, but the one thing he could process was the anger and disappointment in his voice and eyes.

Gilbert only knew the right words to say; the only words he knew to hopefully be saved from his tomb. A broken record.

“Daddy, I’m sorry…”

“Yes. That’s true. But it doesn’t change the fact you’ve taken… according to these markings at least half the barracks. The other half is already lined up the door. It’s hard to tell with all the blood. Now. Before, you were just betraying me, spreading your legs for anyone who happened to come in here.  _ Now, _ you’re going to spread your legs because I’m ordering you to, understand?” Ivan said, still caressing, hands gliding over his tattered back, rubbing his thumb back and forth across his cheekbone.

Gilbert sucked through his teeth at the stinging sensation flared on his back, squeezing his eyes as he choked on a sob. This is what he deserved, for hurting Ivan when all he was trying to do was help him. He silently nodded as the tears fell to the ashen floor. 

Ivan smiled sadly. So obedient now, none of these brutes would even notice the subtleties he’d instilled in him. Still, he knew how to keep him on his hook. He picked up the canteen, held it to Gilbert’s torn lips. 

“Here, drink,” Ivan encouraged him, watched as Gilbert swallowed, and continued to cry. “I’ll bring you an IV bag soon. You haven’t eaten since you left me, right?”

“No- no, nothing but cum, Daddy… J-just like you taught me…” 

“Good. Now, be a good boy for some more men while I go get it. I’ll be back and give you your needle. Understand?” Ivan said, pulling the canteen back and gently stroking the nape of his neck as he set him back on the ground trembling. 

Gilbert shook his head, sighing as he eagerly swallowed the water. 

Just a few more men, he could do it; he could do this, for then he would be with Ivan once more… 

\----

Feliciano had spent the rest of the night and the rest of the next day thinking about Ludwig and his constipated emotions. He was bottled up so tight he was going to pop like an over-carbonated bottle. The violence and near-slap he saw in him the night before came from extreme internal stress - guilt, grief, and rage with nowhere to go. Feliciano didn’t know how to help him about his brother, but after considering what he would do if his brother was suddenly taken from him, the mere thought of it made tears well in his eyes, and Feli knew the first place he would go would be to church to beg God for salvation, both his brother’s and his own. The next thing he would want would be to get fucked so hard he wouldn’t be able to think straight anymore. 

So when he went to Ludwig’s house the next evening, he had his plan formulated. He knew Ludwig would be difficult to get out of the house, especially when he couldn’t make eye contact with him after almost hitting him the night before. And so when he rang the doorbell Feliciano immediately ducked into the bushes next to the door and waited. He heard Britta and Berlitz, his fast-growing pups, barking inside the house, stampeding to the door ahead of Ludwig. He kept his eye trained on the door, waiting for it to open. 

Ludwig turned the doorknob, pulling the door open as he shouted at the two dogs to calm down; which he may as well be speaking alien. Ludwig groaned, peering open the door just a crack as he was met with… nothing?

What was this? Some kind of funny joke? Ludwig huffed, pursing his lips in annoyance.

Feli from his place next to the door felt his jaw drop open. Ludwig in profile, his hair messy, civilian clothes, house slippers - it was a version of Ludwig he’d never seen! Always so uptight and buttoned up - he didn’t even like taking off his uniform when they had sex. Seeing him so casual and, well, human, made Feliciano’s heart skip a beat and he couldn’t stop himself from jumping out at that moment, grabbing Ludwig by the wrist and twisting-twirling him out his front door, pinning him against the doorframe as he used his moment to pull him off balance. He slammed his body against Ludwig’s rough but not too hard, just enough to show he was in charge. 

“Hey, partner. I want to show you something. Will you come with me?” Feliciano asked, his usually sing-song voice had lowered to a sexy rumble. 

Ludwig should have expected Feli; but he hadn’t, considering he hadn’t seen the Italian all day... But to approach so openly and broadly? It made his stomach turn upside down and do all kinds of flips. What was he up to?

Despite the cold, Ludwig felt his body tingle and feel extraordinarily warm. He cleared his throat.

“F-Feli... Uh...”

Damn it, why did Feliciano have to be like this? He couldn’t help but overthink the night before; his outburst, losing control of his emotions, almost hitting his companion -- it was uncalled for, his behavior unacceptable. 

Ludwig sank further down the door, sighing with defeat.

“Fine... but where to, exactly? It’s the middle of the night.”

“Exactly. It’s 11:30, we have enough time to get there exactly at midnight! Put on your boots and coat! I promise you won’t regret it!” Feliciano said excitedly, but there was a steely edge to it as well. His desires honed into a blade. Ludwig would do what he wanted. He knew it. 

Ludwig rolled his eyes at Feliciano's unrelenting enthusiasm, where did he get it from? That within itself was a mystery as he went inside to close the door, shushing the dogs before retrieving his coat and boots as instructed by the Italian.

A moment later Ludwig peered through the door, turning the key and making sure it was properly locked as he tiredly glanced at Feliciano, not too sure what to do now.

Feliciano skipped up to Ludwig and grabbed his gloved hand, dragging him forward at a light jog. 

“Come on! We have to hurry!” Feli laughed as he ran, quiet and bubbly but irrepressible. Ludwig’s hand was warm in his and he felt his reassuring weight as he dragged him along behind him. After a block Feli slowed to a more reasonable walk, his heart racing from the exercise, feeling warmed against the chilly night air. He walked calmly, silently. Usually, he would be jabbering on about his day but he calmed his usual loquacious nature. The night was sacred, the silence blessed. Ludwig needed time with his thoughts and a cold winter night was the best time to figure them out. Next, he needed the best place. 

Ludwig managed to keep up with Feliciano’s excitement, his boots dragging along the frosted gravel as he panted through his nose and mouth. 

Where was Feliciano taking him?

None of this made any sense; his silence, coming here in the middle of the night... One minute Ludwig thought he understood the Italian, for only the next minute to have it torn up and thrown in his face to study harder the next time around.

“Feli... Where are you taking me?” Ludwig asked with uncertainty. He wasn’t scared; he just didn’t like surprises.

“Trust me. You need it,” Feli panted, “We’re almost there!” they rounded the block and a towering cathedral with twin white intricately festooned spires rose, illuminated by the full pale moon. Between them, at their base, the sanctuary window was suspended, a perfect circle of fractals and sacred geometric shapes forming the interior of the stained glass. During the day it would have had a myriad of colors, but now the window looked only like a speckled greyscale circle. 

Ludwig had to tilt his head up to view the building in all its moonlit glory, expression perplexed as he stared at the Italian.

“A  _ church _ ? But, Feli; I’m not Catholic… They wouldn’t offer services in the middle of the night anyway. This doesn’t make any sense. Why did you bring me here?”

“It doesn’t matter! Come on, we’re not going inside, anyway. We can do our own thing right here.” Felicano gripped his hand harder. He wasn’t going to let him go. They started jogging again as they were almost there, entering the wrought iron fence perimeter and going around the side of the building to the back courtyard. They had to skirt trees and bushes as they did; but eventually, they got to the other side, the moon rising between the two towers. Feli took him to a backless marble stone bench, set in the middle of a garden area, the church towering before them and the moon rising between the spires like a giant eye. 

“See? Isn’t it beautiful Ludwig?” Feli breathed, pushing him down to the bench, standing behind him. 

Ludwig sat down on the frosted bench, shivering as he brought his coat closer to his chin.

“It is, I suppose… But I still don’t get why you're doing this…”

Feliciano grabbed Ludwig’s hips and pulled him closer until his ass hung off the back. He hugged him tightly, chest to his back, holding him close and whispering in his ear. 

“Ludwig, I brought you here so you can talk to Gilbert,” Feli said gently, placing innocent pecks over Ludwig’s exposed nape. 

“G-Gilbert? He’s here?” Ludwig sucked through his teeth, his blue eyes anxiously looking around the frosted landscape as he felt Feli’s lips against the nape of his neck, the fine hairs of his neck standing on edge as he felt goosebumps rise to his skin, causing him to shiver. Feli was standing at an angle where he couldn’t see the Italian’s face.

“I… That’s impossible… Are you just trying to hurt me, Feliciano? Is this your way of getting back at me for almost…” Ludwig hung his head in shame, the only thing that seemed to keep him grounded was Feliciano's arms wrapped around him.

“Ludwig, it’s okay. I know you didn’t mean it. You did that because you’re in so much pain, aren’t you? This is a sacred space. If you talk to your brother here, especially right now, he’ll hear you,” Feliciano said confidently.

"But… I've never prayed before…” Ludwig confessed meekly, “Not a cathedral anyway…” 

“That’s okay, just talk to him like he’s here. He’ll hear you, I promise,” Feli said, resting his head against Ludwig’s. “You have things you left unsaid, right?”

"Y-yeah… But…" Ludwig groaned, sighing as he brought his hands to his face. "I don't know where to start…” 

"You said it was your fault he died. Whether it's true or not you can still pray for forgiveness - you feel guilty about it so talk to your brother, tell him how you feel in your heart," Feliciano encouraged, rubbing Ludwig's arms. He knew this wouldn't solve everything, that coming here like this wouldn't bring his brother back. But it might help him move on. Might melt the glacier freezing his heart in place. Start the thaw and let some warmth in.

Ludwig wasn't used to expressing such raw emotions, let alone to the Italian. Emotions were weakness, but the harder Ludwig found himself resisting the faster his walls crumbled around him. 

"G-Gilbert…" Ludwig whispered under his breath, his heart swelling with pain as he decided to trust Feliciao’s unorthodox method. "I'm so, so sorry for abandoning you when you needed me most. I left you in the hands of someone I thought we could trust… But he deceived us. " 

Feliciano hummed quietly but said nothing. He didn't want to interrupt, he knew how important this was for Ludwig. The first step to healing was acceptance. Forgiveness. Even if Gilbert wasn't there it was still important to say the words. 

"I sent you there, to that horrible place expecting you to be cured, so you can live with peace and thrive… But I was so wrong, never could have been more wrong. I miss your smile, your laughter… I miss having you around, bruder… I wish I knew what that bastard had hidden under his sleeve. I was too gullible, too eager to have them cure you. I wasn't expecting you to… Die… and I can't move on, I feel guilty. You could still be by my side right now, but your body is somewhere, left in a ditch unremembered…"

"Oh, Gilbert…" Ludwig grit his teeth, eyes scrunching up tight as he imagined Gilbert's body infested with mites and maggots, a terrible image to think of his once-thriving brother, hair full and luscious, glistening like moon in sunlight.

"That's good Ludwig, I know if Gilbert was here he'd want you to be happy. He wouldn't want his death eating you up inside. You almost tried to hit me yesterday, is that what Gilbert would want? You’re wound up because you feel guilty. Like it was your fault. You've been punishing yourself and punishing me for something that wasn't your fault," Feli said steadily, nuzzling against Ludwig's head and breathing in his scent. 

"That's… Because it was my fault," Ludwig sighed, shoulders dropping as if they held the weight of the world. “I sent him there, he didn’t want to go."

"You didn't know what was going to happen to him, how could you have?"

"I was naive. Look around us, people are dying right now. We're destroying our country, it's people. I trusted him so much, believed Gilbert would come back home safe. But I knew. They even told me. I knew people like him weren't going to make it, yet I still trusted him. That he was going to cure him for something he was born with," Ludwig grit his teeth, turning his hands into fists. 

"What was wrong with him? Was he… like us?" Feli asked, genuinely curious. It was hard for Ludwig to talk about his brother despite being so influential to him and Feliciano felt like he didn't know him at all yet. 

"Yes-- No… He was very different from us, he had white hair like snow, his eyes crimson red… He hated the sun, it would easily give him sunburn," Ludwig explained before frowning. Remembering. 

"He was always so full of energy, nothing like me at all. I think you would have gotten along with him pretty well, actually." 

"Really? I'm sorry I never got to meet him. I would have asked him stories about you growing up," Feli said with a smile 

Ludwig cracked with a sad smile. 

"That…Would have been nice." 

"It's ok to feel sad, to miss him, but you also have to keep living. He would have wanted that, right? For you to find happiness, for you to find… love," Feli trailed off and let his hands slide down Ludwig's seated body, his back, his front, letting them rest over his crotch, palming his ass over his trousers. He bit the back of Ludwig's neck, very gently, just enough to let him know he was there. 

Although it was a small gesture, it made Ludwig’s skin flush hot and red to the high point of his ears as he trembled; let it be from Feliciano or the cold, he wasn't sure. 

The hand resting over his crotch was like a silent invitation… The sensations were nice and soothing, something he found himself slowly sinking into as he exposed more of his neck as he tilted his head back to meet Feli’s brown eyes. 

"He would… But love..? Hah…" Ludwig sighed before closing his eyes. 

Feli didn’t let it deter him, let his actions speak for themselves. He felt Ludwig sinking into his grasp and encouraged it, leaning forward to hold him, hand rubbing soothingly over his groin, his hand around his rear shifted under his coat, found the beltline, and slipped over it to press his cold hands right against his ass. He just held him, gripping slowly, warming his fingers until he could slide them down his crack, lap the pads gently across his entrance. 

Ludwig felt hot under the collar despite the frigid weather, sucking through his teeth as the Italian wasn’t shy about what he wanted. His fingers were cold to the touch but were easily distracted by his hands as he stirred his cock to life, the bench slowly warming beneath him as he further parted his legs. Ludwig wasn’t objecting to Feliciano’s advances; he knew he should, but the touches were too good to just give up… He might as well try to enjoy it, after all; Feli had put so much effort and put up with him for this long, there should be something he could return… 

Feliciano felt Ludwig try to move, to get up and assume the role he normally did, but Feli held him tighter, pushed a single knuckle of a finger into him, the smallest penetration, but still enough that he could feel it. 

“Shh, it’s okay. I’m going to take care of you tonight,” Feliciano murmured directly into Ludwig’s ear. 

He quickly moved to unbutton Ludwig’s fly and his right hand eagerly grabbed him through the front of his pants; only to give himself more room as he pushed past and into Ludwig's underwear and cupped his stiffening dick.

With the coat around them, the late hour, the secluded cathedral courtyard, there was no one around to see what they were doing and Feliciano knew it. 

“Ludwig, you just keep asking for forgiveness, alright?” 

“H-how can I do that when you're… distracting me?” It was better put in politer words, despising how his voice stuttered at Feliciano’s confidence in his sexuality. 

“That’s why I’m doing it… Get out of your head and just feel. Trust me, I’m actually really good at this” Feli said, clever hand pulling his dick to full hardness, pressing his finger into the back by just another knuckle, using a stroking dipping motion to stimulate him. “Go on Luddy, tell your brother how sorry you are,” Feli whispered into his ear, nipping the shell of it once he did, tongue greasing over its outer curved edge. 

No kidding.

Ludwig groaned at the heightened sensations, never really knowing how sensitive his body could be as he melted underneath Feliciano’s experienced touches.

How, where? He did recall something back in Italy… Having the local boys fawn over him… But he couldn’t focus much, mind distracted by Feli’s wandering hands that kept him drifting in and out of not wanting to care, not caring what the hell was happening.

The stimulation caused Ludwig to groan deep again, his cock thoroughly enjoying these new, strange sensations. It made him wonder why he’d neglected such affection for so long but he knew why. They both did. Even if Feliciano hadn’t quite grasped the full extent of it. 

“I.. I’m sorry, Gilbert. I love you so much... There’s not a day that goes by when I’m not thinking of you... Bitte…”

Ludwig gasped softly as the Italian stroked a particularly sensitive area, thighs tensing as cold steam left his mouth.

“F-forgive me..”

Feliciano listened quietly as he worked, diligently opening Ludwig up, stroking him down, getting him to open his mouth and let the words tumble out. It was the first time he’d allowed himself to let go emotionally in front of him and Feli wasn’t going to miss this opportunity; he would help ease Ludwig along by making him feel vulnerable, open, tender - all necessary for him to fit this role. Feli was reverse-engineering it through his body, forcing him to submit to pleasure, submit to loss, submit to grief. They could all flow together in a swirl if Ludwig would let himself. And it seemed like he finally, finally was. 

Ludwig brought the palm of his hand to his lips to stifle the pleasant noises that flowed from his mouth; how his toes curled in his boots. It had been a long time since Ludwig had actively touched himself, overwhelmed with grief and the loss of his brother.

Feli’s hand around his dick started to stall, pumping him in full long strokes, pleasurable but too slow to propel him any further forward. He pulled his back hand out, returned with his fingers greased, pressing one back in, all the way this time, and started gently fucking him with just that. After Ludwig started gasping and tilting his ass back to angle it better against Feliciano’s finger, the Italian pulled out and came back with two, squeezed together and speared inside. Everything was gentle, intentional, never pushing him further than he could go, but still done with purpose. 

If he wasn’t sweating before; he was now. 

It didn’t make any sense how such a crude area should feel so damn good, it was almost a wonder why men didn’t subject themselves to this immense sensation more openly; but then again, dominance was something he couldn’t just set aside, not when anyone on the receiving end was being shipped off. There was a reason women, bitches were the ones fucked, to be put in their place… But Ludwig was neither of those, it simply didn’t sit well with him as he tightened his fists.

“Feli- I don’t think that’s… appropriate…” 

Feliciano ignored him and kept the relaxed pace up his dick, biting Ludwig’s neck again, harder this time, enough to leave a mark on him by latching on and sucking hard. He waited until he felt the muscle relax and accommodate around his fingers, bending them to drag down hard over Ludwig’s prostate, knowing it would be a fun new sensation for him. 

Ludwig felt a shock of pleasure, Feliciano had crooked against some live nerve inside him and it made a pulse shoot through his hips, through his dick, and he gasped aloud, not expecting anything beyond what he was already feeling. His disapproval of the act, being the one to receive, was slowly being eroded by those clever fingers. It was hard to think, hard to deny it when his legs were jellied, his brain steaming, hips shifting back instinctively for more. 

“That’s right, I’ll take care of you, you have to forgive yourself, you have to move on, it’s what he would want…” Feli murmured in his ear, gripping him hard, speeding up his lax hand around his dick, stroking inside him in the same pattern. The air was frigid around them but the space between them was hot and alive and with only the moon watching them, the thought of Gilbert’s ghost hovering, Ludwig finally let out an aching groan and surrendered.

"Gilbert, please forgive me…" 

\----

Roderich and Elizaveta were back at the camp, resting camouflaged in a delivery truck they had ‘liberated’ from the Nazis last week. They were parked at the back of the facility, still outside the fence line but just close enough to see who was coming and going through the back lots. They had been coming back for days now, tracking the guard schedules and routes, keeping a record of every person who went in and out of the laboratory building. It had been long enough now that they knew every person, what they looked like, where they would be and when, and the best timing to get in and out unseen. 

“Let’s go over it again,” Elizaveta said, her hands working feverishly over a small hand pistol, mindlessly opening it, taking every piece apart, and then putting it back together again, over and over. “You memorized the guard’s route?” She asked without looking up. Her hair was balled up into a tight bun, hidden beneath a cap, her chest bound with tight cloth and wearing a uniform a size too large to hide her other curves. As long as she kept her head down, she looked just like another soldier. 

“Yes, yes. Now remember if I don’t come back; leave without me, I’ll meet you at the rendezvous” Roderich said with a stern expression, taking deep breaths as he adjusted his cap. “I’ll see you again soon,”

“Good luck, I believe in you,” Eliza said, grabbing his hand and squeezing it tight, locking eyes with him, and sharing a determined deep breath. With that, Roderich got out of the car, his boots scraping along the moist dirt as his eyes averted left and right, mocking confidence as he strode towards the back fence. They had been snipping it one wire at a time for weeks along with reconnaissance then tying it back in place with a string. Made the fence seem whole but they had already secured their access in and out. Now they were just gathering more information for Gilbert’s rescue. Once he was through the fence It was an apprehensive moment, looking both ways and then striding confidently around to the front of the building. The doors squealed at the hinges as he allowed himself inside.

There was no turning back now.

Roderich’s heart pounded as it always did while undercover and he walked down the narrow corridor, the pistol by his hip was stuck like glue. It was a new building, next to the lab, the last place he had to check. The further the Austrian went inside, he could hear the soft murmur of voices. 

Morbid curiosity stuck Roderich as he decided to walk over to the source, seeing two men walk around a corner from a long line with impatient men waiting for something. The line of men went down some stairs into the lower utility levels.

Roderich cleared his throat to gain their attention.

“Excuse me... But why is there a queue here? I thought this area was supposed to be vacant?” Roderich questioned, adjusting the thin frame of glasses further up his nose.

“Hey, you new or something? There’s something you should know about this particular facility. A little bonus if you want,” the soldier said with a grin. 

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” 

“We got ourselves a little personal camp slut, he’s trained and docile and very good at polishing knobs if you know what I mean.” 

“Oh? Really?” Roderich had to keep his face completely still and bit down on his inner cheek trying not to give away how disgusted he was, how much rage those words lit inside him.

Were they talking about Gilbert? 

“Yeah, he’s completely off the register so he’s got nowhere else to go, someone set him up in the boiler room. Just hang your hat on the door outside when you go in so you don’t have others walking in on ya. Sometimes there’s a queue so you may have to come back. Everyone just found out about him so he’s pretty popular right now… Oh and bring something to barter too,” 

“Danke, I’ll check that out,” Roderich ground out, struggling to keep his voice even. 

With bated breath Roderich walked to the front of the line, only to take a peek inside and confirm…

Roderich wished he hadn’t, the scene was horrifying as he saw the back of a soldier thrusting into someone, he couldn’t see who it was yet, just some lifeless limbs hanging off the side, pale and dirty and streaked with old blood. The softest of noises could barely be heard above the loud grunting. Roderich stared, unable to look away, and as his eyes adjusted to the dark, red-utility lit room, he could see a chain attached to one thin ankle, tethering him to a large metal boiler, a dirty dark closet with no windows, no real light, just an unending line of men coming and going. 

“He’s a pack of cigarettes a go, but you're going to have to wait at the back of the queue, pal.”

Roderich barely heard the words processing as he nodded, his glasses falling down his nose as one of the men next in line smacked his back. 

“Haha! Look at him, he must be new! He’s like a kitten, shaking in his boots.”

Sweat pooled by the side of his brow, feeling intense discomfort as his body shook from the rough handling. 

“C’mon, buddy; as a welcome to the camp, I’ll let you get ahead of me.”

Roderich couldn’t help but feel the terror shoot up and down his spine as he felt stuck, shaking his head as he laughed nervously. 

“O-oh! Nien, nien; I’m not…”

“Not what?” The soldier's sharp brow snapped high.

“I mean… I don’t have any cigarettes..” 

“It’s fine, gentlemen,” a cool accented voice cut in from behind Roderich. “This man is my special guest. He’ll go next, of course, no payment necessary for him.” 

Roderich felt his blood turn to ice as he heard that familiar voice, knew that he couldn’t turn around to look at that man in the eyes.

There was a heavy weight on his shoulder as the soldier tapped his cheek with a leather-gloved hand, making him jump.

“Aw, look, Ivan; he looks like he could piss himself!”

That would be an understatement.

The man inside the boiler room grunted loudly as he came, the sound absurd to his ears. He could hear the zipper, and before he knew it he had tossed the packet of cigarettes to the Russian, a grim expression as he shoved his way out. 

“I.. should really,  _ really  _ go. I had no intention of disturbing whatever is happening here- I’ll leave and say nothing, yeah? No harm done.” 

Ivan chuckled, enjoying the tightly-reined panic he detected in the man’s voice.

“Of course, there’s no harm in hurting prisoners scheduled to die anyway. There’s nothing to report, and no one who would care even if you did. Why not just enjoy him? Or, should I inform your superiors about your… lack of protocol?” Ivan asked lightly, the thinly veiled threat would be obvious to the little snake in front of him.

Roderich knew that silent threat, his leg’s feeling like congealed jelly as his eyes narrowed. 

“Really!? No way Ivan, how is he your special guest and not even doing his job properly? Che! Just hurry up and just do it before I get mad,” the next man in line said. 

Roderich was shoved inside the boiler room, almost stumbling in his oversized boots as the overwhelming disgusting smell hit his nose, gagging violently as he pinched his nose.

“I-I don’t want to do this..” Roderich mumbled meekly. 

Ivan smiled grimly and stepped into the room with him, swung the door mostly shut behind them, and grabbed Roderich by the shoulders, moving him closer to Gilbert, forcing him to his knees despite his resistance. 

“I know. That’s exactly why you’re going to fuck him. This is your last chance to see your friend, why would you want to deny him that?” Ivan hissed in his ear. “And if you don’t fuck him, well, maybe you’ll end up in my laboratory as well. Nazi’s don’t take well to spies, you know,” Ivan said almost conversationally, hiding his predatory nature behind a sweet voice and a soft smile. 

“So, what will it be?” Ivan asked finally, still holding Roderich by his shoulders.

Oh, Roderich knew very well what Nazis did to spies… He couldn’t even trust Ivan’s word if he was going to make it out alive, this was all for his sick amusement as he was forced to his knees in front of Gilbert… 

Oh, Gilbert…

Roderich’s stomach turned upside down the closer he looked at his friend, thin and fragile as his skin lay thin and stretched, cheeks hollow as his body was adorned with cuts and bruises, there had to be no patch of skin that wasn’t sliced or diced like a thin layer of cheese served on a silver platter. 

The engraving of the swastika at his sharp hip bone stood out the most as rivers of blood coated Gilbert’s ass cheeks. It looked like a twisted, morbid painting -- but this was real, real; this was Gilbert, his friend; it was a relief to even see his chest rising and falling, head lolled to the side as silent words left his mouth.

Roderich released a shaky breath and jumped at the loud banging suddenly coming from the door. 

“C’mon, man! There's a huge line here! I wanna rock my socks off, damn it.”

To live another day Roderich would have to do this monstrous act; live with this heavy hole in his heart that he did this to his best friend. A heavy weight he would have to forever carry as he slowly began to unzip his pants, a heated glare towards the towering Russian man that loomed like the devil above him.

“You're a cruel, evil man.”

Ivan smirked. 

“That depends on who you’re asking. Let’s see what Gilbert thinks, hmm?” Before Roderich could do anything Ivan stepped closer and kneeled near Gilbert’s shoulders. He stroked his head, speaking softly to him. “Gilbert, hey, wake up sleepyhead,” Ivan kept his touch light, his voice quiet. 

Gilbert managed to respond, seemingly dredging up from the bottom of his internal hell as he could barely open his swollen eyes, his voice barely above a whisper as his crusted lips turned into an estranged smile. 

“I.. Ivan..?” Gilbert had to blink to see Ivan clearer, his heart swelling with joy as he tried to lean into Ivan’s familiar touch, moaning softly.

“Please, plea..se... Ivan.. I’ll be a good dog, a good boy… please… take me back home… I miss everyone, I m-miss you...” Gilbert managed to squeeze out before his whole body shook with rough coughs.

Roderich wasn’t too sure what to feel hearing Gilbert speak; a wave of simmering anger as he listened to his broken and fallen friend clinging onto his abuser that had his hands turning into fists, knuckles turning white as he tightened his lips into a firm line.

Gilbert simply looked broken, a fallen man clinging to the fine strings of life. He could count each rib, watching as his chest expanded and collapsed as blood pooled to the ashen floor. He looked like he could snap bones just from how thin and frail he was. 

“I know, I know precious. We’ll go home soon. But you still have more work to do before that, alright? Can you take some more dick for Daddy?” Ivan asked, watching Roderich’s expression as he lied right to his face.

“Ja… Thank you, Daddy…” Gilbert said submissively, head dropping back to the floor, unable to keep it held up. He hadn’t even noticed Roderich.

Roderich tightened his jaw as he met Ivan’s gaze, he couldn’t let this go on for another minute for Gilbert’s sake; he had no choice but to move forward… but how could he even do that when he couldn’t even get him out of this hellhole? Raping him just to keep him alive hardly seemed like an alternative, and even then he couldn’t even do the first step of getting hard. 

Roderich felt Ivan’s steely gaze on him and knew there wasn’t much time. He tried to bring his cock to life as he stroked the flaccid member, sweat building on his brow.

Ivan watched Roderich struggle, scoffing to himself under his breath when he saw the brunette couldn’t even get up. 

“Need a hand? We have to keep the line moving, you know,” Ivan murmured, moving his fist to pantomime jerking him off. 

Roderich pulled a sour expression as if he had just bitten into a lemon. “Nien, no- don't you dare touch me.” Roderich snarled in warning, closing his eyes to think of something pleasant... Something that wasn’t this hell on Earth. 

He went into his mind, thought of a woman. Her sweet smile, her laughter warm as it reached his heart; her chest bouncing heartily with every movement she made as he eagerly grabbed those globes on her chest, smothering his face in her bosom as Roderich began to pepper her neck with kisses.

The Austrian licked the soft and supple skin, inhaling the soap scented perfume as his hand pulled up her dress, pressing her back against the wall as he slithered his skillful hands down her panties.

Roderich grew firm, his fingers sliding against her wet folds as she softly gasped, wet to the touch as Roderich licked her collarbones and forced out little sounds of pleasure from her, her skin trembling as he imagined her panting impatiently; “Take me, take me now.”

Roderich didn't wait a moment longer at her request, inserting his cock easily inside of her and was encased with tight heat that made him see stars, stifling a groan as he began to rock his hips in a slow momentum, before picking up the pace and thrusting in and out of that delicious heat, her shrill moans spurring Roderich on as he canted with abandon, gasping wetly as he came inside of her.

Sensitive to the touch, Roderich withdrew his wilting cock from that heat that kept his dick warm- reality crashing down on the Austrian as he watched his cum spill from Gilbert’s stretched asshole, almost retching as he shoved his cock back inside his pants, ashamed of himself as Ivan’s voice filled his ears, slowly standing up and pulling the hat over his eyes.

“See, I knew you had it in you. Feel better now? Did you love his well-trained ass?” Ivan asked slyly, still kneeling and watching, hand lazily stroking Gilbert’s head though the albino himself had sunk back down into either unconsciousness or a place so dissociated he might as well have been. “Oh, before I forget…” 

Ivan pulled a scalpel from his lab coat, apparently, he just carried some with him, and without breaking eye contact with Roderich he laid the metal tool against the globe of Gilbert’s ass and was about to press down when he paused and smiled at him. 

“We’re keeping count. Do you want to make your mark or shall I do it for you?” 

Roderich snarled, choosing not to respond to Ivan as he did what he had to do, shoving past the soldier to only receive angry shouts; but Roderich could care less at that moment as he strived to reach outside those double doors; he couldn’t breathe.

Had he really just  _ raped  _ Gilbert?

Roderich clenched his fists, swallowing down his pride. If there was one sound thing he did right, it was finding his location, but they would have to be fast, for it didn’t look like Gilbert could barely hang on for a few days at most.

Time was of the essence. 

Yet he couldn’t ignore the trauma he had just experienced and inflicted upon his best friend.

He would never be able to confess, could never tell Elizaveta of his participation within Gilbert’s misery, she would never forgive him - Roderich felt so ill he could barely stumble forward, he leaned against the wall as he pulled the hat off his head, wiping the sweat on his brow as he releases a shaky sigh, mentally and physically exhausted.

He had no idea how Gilbert must be feeling right now, or how he even managed anything at all under those awful, inhumane conditions. Roderich snarled, they were going to rescue Gilbert. Had to. 

First, he had to recoup with Elizaveta with the truck, but there was no doubt she would have left by now considering how long he had taken. It was a precaution, the meeting point was the little cafe they had both become so very fond of. 

Before he made it back through the main gate he passed by the lab building where Gilbert had originally been kept. Knowing that Ivan was still down in that hell torturing his friend that meant he couldn’t be here guarding his secrets. Roderich decided to take a risk, no, an opportunity, and sneak into the lab to learn what he could. He tried the back doors but they were locked. He sighed angrily. Of course, it wouldn’t be that easy… He circled around the front to the proper main entrance. A short blond man sat at the desk and glanced up at him with a frown. 

“No one has like, any meetings scheduled today so… Are you here on official business, or-”

“Um,” Roderich leaned forward on the desk, resting his arm as he cautiously looked left and right. “Mm, yes… I’m looking for someone who has short, brown hair.” Roderich demonstrated the length. “Average build, green eyes… goes by the name of Toris?”

Feliks looked up in shock from his papers, glancing around to ensure they were alone, looking back over his shoulder down the hall. Then he leaned forward, eyes wide and it was hard to tell if it was fear or excitement. 

“You actually know Toris? A-are you…” Feliks trailed off, seeming to catch himself. He looked back down, hands clenching over the paperwork. “Most Nazis don’t bother to learn the names of prisoners,” Feliks finished, more quiet and subdued after his initial surprise. “Do you know him?”

“We are... Um, acquaintances. I must speak with him.”

“He- well, Ivan, the head lab scientist isn’t here right now, I’d have to ask him, so-” 

“And that’s exactly why I need to see Toris,  _ now _ .”

Feliks looked the man up and down, he wore the Nazi outfit but his eyes were haunted and desperate, a fear there that Feliks recognized. The fact he was trying to speak to Toris, a nobody to the Nazis, while Ivan was away - yet another thing a Nazi wouldn’t do. He felt a strange excitement seeing him, knowing he wasn’t like the others. 

“Why do you want to talk to Toris? What- what are you planning to do with him?” Feliks asked, lowering his voice and leaning in closer. 

“I-- can’t disclose that. Please, there isn’t much time.”

“You don’t want Ivan to see you here. No one knows Toris’ name except us. I know something’s up… I’m not letting you in until you tell me something,” Feliks said, crossing his arms and looking stubborn. He wasn’t afraid of this man, not compared to Ivan. But if he could help them in some way… 

Roderich groaned, what stubbornness! 

The Austrian sucked through his teeth as he glanced around again, closing the gap between them as he said with hushed whispers.

“I need Toris so I can help him escape this place with a friend of mine; you're more than welcome to join us, but it’s urgent. I don’t think my friend will be able to last any longer. We're wasting precious time.”

“See, you like, should have started with that! Come on, I’ll show you where he is. My name is Feliks,” he said, standing up from the desk and unlocking the hall doors. Security had tightened since Gilbert was taken but he still held the keys. “I’ll go with you so he knows you’re here to help but I can’t stay. Someone has to watch the front or Ivan will like, have my hide, you know?” He speed-walked through the lab, moving faster than one might have guessed from his posture, and in a few seconds, he was at Toris’ workbench, green eyes glimmering. 

“Hey, this guy knows you, wants to help. I gotta go, but like, you know! Make a plan or something!” Feliks said hurriedly, already sprinting back to the front without another word.

Roderich couldn't say much of a word before the small man had left, standing there awkwardly between the door and the desk as he cleared his throat.

“Gutentag, Toris… I’m here to help our friend escape this place; you're the only one I could think of that could help considering Ivan. Are you still willing to help? Of course, we won’t leave you here, you're more than welcome to escape with us where there will be food, water, living quarters… Somewhere safe.”

Toris was shocked when Feliks came in breathless dragging a Nazi behind him, but once he met his unique purple eyes, Toris gasped remembering Roderich from when he’d tried to free Gilbert from the cage. He stood up, face pale and he felt shaky. He hadn’t believed that he was coming back, he said he would rescue Gilbert but enough time had passed he’d just forced himself to stop thinking about that promise, knowing it was something said in desperation, not an actual plan that might happen. Seeing him standing there now after Gilbert was already out of their reach, Toris’ chest began to throb and ache fiercely. It just wasn’t fair…

“I’m sorry… I wish you came a few days ago. You’re too late. Gilbert has been… Well, he was kidnapped by other soldiers, just common brutes who have nothing to do with this lab. But they got in and stole him and now they’re treating him like a camp whore and we can’t get anywhere near him now. We aren’t allowed out of this building, only Ivan…” Toris paused, seeing the look over Roderich’s face. Twisted and ashamed and horrified. As if waking from a nightmare and trying to describe it. 

“You-you’ve seen him already… Haven’t you…” Toris said sadly, heart falling once again. 

Roderich’s jaw tightened as he nodded glumly, shuddered with shame. He knew he couldn’t let the guilt take over otherwise it would crush him. “I’m going to rescue him, and I want you to help. We can get you and your friends out too.”

Toris felt the renewal of hope, something he hadn’t felt since the cage, terrified at the same time because if it didn’t work and they were caught… He couldn’t imagine the nightmare Ivan would have prepared for them as punishment… Toris had to sit down, put his head in his hands, and let out a shaky breath. 

“I’ll help but you have to promise me something,” Toris said quietly, voice swimming with a myriad of emotion. 

“What is it?” Roderich questioned with bated breath.

“When you rescue Gilbert please save Feliks and Ravis too, they’re the other prisoners here. We’ve all been living under Ivan’s thumb and will bear the brunt of it once he’s gone. Everyone has to go together, at the same time,” Toris said, lowering his voice. 

“Of course. Nobody will be left behind.” 

“One more thing… Before I help you. You have to promise me… If it looks like we’re going to get caught-” Toris had to stop himself, feeling emotion overtake him for a second. He knew what he had to say, it was the right thing, but it was so damn hard.

“Please, you have to promise me that you’ll kill Gilbert,” Toris said in a broken whisper, head bowed, tears in his eyes. 

Roderich couldn't hide the shock he expressed as he pulled down the cap to cover his eyes.

“I can’t guarantee that he’s my best friend… Now; listen closely and here's the plan..”

\----

The chamber to the door opened as Hitler entered the lab room, the gas leaving the room as his narrowed eyes roamed around. Hitler approaches Ivan as he hunched over a desk working through some problem; the small Austrian cleared his throat to gain his attention.

"Braginski. I'm here to see patient 20925 for personal viewing." 

Ivan looked up and for once was caught off guard. Out of all the Nazis in the country, this man was the only one who had power over him. And out of all the things that could go wrong… The timing couldn’t be worse. He kept his calm smiling outer demeanor despite the anger simmering inside

“Ah, Fuhrer, yes, well… You see, that patient is currently going through a treatment and you won’t be able to see him until-” 

"Now. I want to see him  _ now."  _ Adolf straightened his back, venom spitting as he approached the tall Russian man, unintimidated by his size and mass. His smile. "Do I need to remind you what position you are in?" 

Ivan fought the urge to sneer at the shorter man. He wasn’t anything intimidating as an individual but he did control the largest military in Europe and it was by his word that Ivan was even here in the first place. He couldn’t manipulate him the same way he did with everyone else. This man was used to getting what he wanted the instant he demanded. That kind of privilege was dangerous.

“Sir, I must insist… It’s dangerous to go back and see him with the radiation levels being elevated.” Ivan repeated calmly, though he could feel a bead of sweat roll down the back of his neck. 

"Do  _ not  _ make me repeat myself."

Ivan sighed and started thinking about damage control, about keeping control of his specimen. If the Fuhrer found out he was being used as stress relief for the whole camp he’d be taken away and never see him again. He would find out the albino project was a dead end, that he’d been lying from the beginning, and then it would be his head on the chopping block. 

Which would be better? Make himself look incompetent in front of the Fuhrer? Or lose access to his pet? Ivan sighed as he made his choice. He knew it would cost him but it was worth it after all the time and effort he put into Gilbert.

“Sir, the truth is that the patient has gone missing,” Ivan said steadily, watching Hitler’s face closely to gauge his reaction to the news. 

At first, he didn't much react, the wrinkles on his cheeks twitching. 

" _ Missing?" _ The anger in his voice was anything to go by, eyes squinting. "How an Earth does a man who can barely walk  _ go missing?"  _

Adolf's voice raised louder the more he spoke.

"You can't be serious." 

Ivan had to fist his hands in his lab coat to stop himself from reacting to the humiliation of being scolded like an incompetent. He kept his growing rage tightly checked and responded carefully. 

“Sir, it was a pair of soldiers under your command who took him away. ” 

“What makes you have the right to blame my soldiers? Do you have some grudge against them, Braginski?” Adolf questioned, a thick brow raising high. “If what you say is true, my men would have put him down. Let us hope not, for he is our weapon to finish this war once and for all.” Adolf brought a hand to his face, dragging the creased wrinkles. “Hopefully they haven’t taken him very far, I permit you to look around the labor camp to find our guinea pig. Fix this mess that you have created, or your balls will be strung high and your body a wisp of ashes. You are easily replaced. Good day, Braginski.” Adolf scolded, nose curling up as he turned on his heel to leave the medical room.

Ivan glowered but maintained control, giving a short strained "Yes, herr" in response. His fury burned inside him like a miniature sun. Hot and unbearable. Gilbert was going to feel his anger, he would pay for putting him in this position. He meant to take him back from those Nazis once he’d learned a lesson but now, Ivan thought Gilbert deserved to be locked up for the whole camp to use. As he watched Hitler stomp out of his office Ivan already began to formulate his plan

\----

Roderich pressed his back against the narrow corridor as he heard loud, obscure grunting coming from the boiler room, the door was ajar although a cap hung from the doorknob. There was no longer a line from the first day but there was still someone in there. As Roderich inhaled, gripping onto the large butcher knife he carried, he slowly crept inside. It was disgusting, Roderich couldn’t even tell if Gilbert was breathing or not as the broad man thrust animalistically against him, couldn’t stand to watch or hear anymore as he lunged with a snarl, swinging the knife back to stab it forward with more force, piercing deep through his back. The man jerked and screamed but was already dying as Roderich twisted the knife and wrenched it back out, panting with adrenaline as he drew the knife across the front of the man’s neck, the blade going through his jugular.

It should have been satisfying to watch the man fall, watching through his eyes as he was stabbed in the back, but he had no time to watch and enjoy it. Gilbert was the priority. Roderich threw the knife, the gurgling sounds of death filling his ears as he rushed to his knees, shaking Gilbert lightly to try and arouse him… nothing. He was completely limp.

“Toris, come in with the body bag, quickly.”

Toris shuddered and tried to hold his breath as he worked, hands shaking from the state of Gilbert. He was barely alive, looked like he could pass on the other side at any moment. He helped lift and lay him in the body bag, a precaution if they were seen carrying him, and between the two of them, they lifted him, Roderich at the shoulder, Toris with his feet. He was far lighter than he should have been, could have easily been carried by one of them alone but speed was essential. They only had a few moments to escape before Ivan returned from his unexpected meeting. 

Eliza was in the lab, disguised as a man; she was helping Feliks and Ravis get out of the lab and direct them to the backyard. It was a one-way system, otherwise, their plan wouldn't work. They were headed to the back gate, the same place she had cut open the week prior in small chunks in between Roderich’s patrols. 

Roderich huffed as he trudged through the corridors, finally back outside to meet the other three as he ushered Toris to hurry up, loading Gilbert in the back of the truck - they couldn’t spend time wondering if they were being rough or not. They had to get out; now.

“Quickly, Eliza!” Roderich shouted urgently, running to the passenger seat as he flew open the door to start the engine for her. She was in the back, reaching a hand for Feliks to climb up and once he was in she darted back to the front of the truck to drive. Feliks was reaching down to help Ravis climb up when he gasped in shock.

“It’s Ivan!” Feliks shrilled.

Ivan was on his way back from his meeting, thoroughly humiliated and motivated. He was going to take his Gilbert back and use him as he should have from the beginning. No more stalling, time to extract his weapon. His masterpiece. He didn’t care what Romulus had to say about it, he’d kill him on the spot if he had to. However, when he turned the corner and saw an unfamiliar truck, Felik helping Ravis climb into the back of it, he saw red and instantly charged forward. No one took his family.

He was close enough that despite Feliks trying to yank Ravis up faster, he grabbed the boy by his ankle and ripped him back down, hitting the ground with a yelp. Ivan grabbed him by the neck and picked him up, holding him in front of him like a shield.

Roderich’s eyes widened as he pulled his revolver, panic settling in as he cocked it back, fully loaded; he turned, preparing to aim; his finger pressed on the trigger, a powerful blow that lurched him backward. 

It was too late to be stopped.

“Go, Eliza! Go! Go!” Roderich shouted with a heavy heart, knowing that the shooting would have caused attention and alarm. “Go!”

Eliza heard the shot and knew what it meant, not bothering to question or look back, she hit the accelerator down and the truck jumped forward with a roar, tires grinding up gravel as they picked up speed and rounded out the back of the gate she’d cut. Once they were back on the main roads and no other cars were following them did they know they were potentially safe. She couldn't look, couldn’t ask, knew the most important thing was getting back to their safe house. Getting Gilbert back home, not physically, not his house, but the home that once existed in their arms, with their friendship. 

It was a miracle he was alive, a miracle they had gotten him out. All that was left was to survive the conflict, no matter how long it took. One day at a time. 

\----

Ivan watched with wide, shocked eyes as the truck broke through a cut part of the fence and drove off with his family. Feliks and Toris he saw, along with that traitorous spy he’d met earlier… But that, that must mean? Ivan set Ravis’ slowly cooling body down gently, grateful to have recovered at least one of them. Even if he had to die for it. He’d done it to protect him so Ivan wasn’t mad at Ravis, even if he was alone. No, he needed to find Gilbert. He was the most important. 

He stood and ran to the other outbuilding, skipping steps down the stairs and opening the boiler room to find the chains slack, the blankets and bloodstains were all that remained. 

Ivan felt the madness return. His family. Was gone. He grabbed his head and screamed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Narroch: Thank goodness! He got out! Don’t underestimate the power of friendship! Thanks to everyone reading and leaving reviews. It’s nice to know y’all are enjoying this messed up story. :3
> 
> Also - Feliciano is a switchy top, IDGAF what anyone says lol. He just bottoms to get Ludwig comfortable with it LOL!
> 
> EDIT: We're taking a break on this story for the rest of 2020. We'll update again sometime in January.


	10. Chapter 10

Elizaveta was beyond shocked at the state of Gilbert. She drove with a contained madness, getting them back to their safe house following a meandering route, staying within speed limits. She wanted to give no excuse to get pulled over, despite the fact that they needed to move quickly. 

Once the truck was parked in the narrow back alley, she got out and went inside to start boiling the water, getting the bandages and other medical supplies out from a prior raid. The bed was already ready, his room prepared, but she hadn't expected Gilbert to be so hurt. When Toris and Roderich carried him in and laid him on the sheets, unzipping the body bag he'd been transported in, Elizaveta let out a shocked, wet gasp and nearly dropped the pot of hot water. 

"Oh my God, what have they done to him?!" She asked, horrified by what she saw. The bloody emaciated shadow that was revealed. 

“Unspeakable things...” Toris bowed his head, ashamed before realizing there were too few of them, he whipped his head around, looking for their short Latvian friend.

“Where’s Ravis?”

Roderich pulled his hat down, couldn’t meet Toris in the eyes as he clenched his fists, angry and upset at himself.

“I... I accidentally shot him…”

Toris’ head whipped around to look at Roderich, with enough force his hair swayed with the motion. “What?! How can that be accidental?!”

“Ivan-- Ivan, he used Ravis to protect himself from the bullet… I was trying to shoot him but then he just held him up at the last second…”

Toris growled, feeling anger; but suddenly exhausted, stumbling to a chair as he collapsed on it as if he had the whole world on his shoulders, shaking his head as he bowed dismissively. 

“Ravis… Ravis..”

“I’m... sorry…”

“Everyone! We need to focus on Gilbert! Hand me that cloth, Feliks - can you grab the brown bottle? That’s the one. Alright, let’s get him cleaned up. Everyone, be as gentle as you can,” 

Elizaveta took charge and grabbed the cloth, handing the bowl to her and using the cleaning antiseptic hot water to begin carefully and steadily wiping down Gilbert. She started around his face, his neck, his shoulder, and arm and slowly worked down his chest. With every swipe the water grew murkier, Gilbert’s skin showed even more scrapes and cuts than what was originally visible, many were already scars, many scabbed over in the process of half-healing, many were so fresh they still dripped, making the bed a spotted mess of blood. 

“Oh, Gilbert… How could they be so monstrous… Those fucking Nazis!” Eliza trembled with righteous fury, having to set her washcloth down, she was shaking so badly. She reached over to unzip the body bag further and drew in a horrified breath when she saw the state of his privates. She stood and turned away, a hand to her mouth and she darted out of the room feeling like she would be absolutely sick. “I-I can’t… Someone, please….” 

Roderich stood up and followed her out, placed a firm hand on Elizaveta's shoulder.

"We've got this, you take a rest, bitte." 

She nodded and stumbled out, heading to the kitchen to pour herself a shot of brandy to steady her nerves. 

Toris came over and picked up the washcloth, he was more used to seeing Gilbert in this state. More numbed to the violence, to the brutality. With a delicate and completely innocent touch he carefully cleaned between Gilbert’s legs, his dick and balls were still bloodied and scraped and cut, his thighs were sliced like deli meat, so many cuts so close together, the largest and deepest was a swastika cut over his hip, the lines were bruised and exposed and even before he cleaned it Toris knew many of the cuts were infected. He went pale thinking about the state of his backend, but they’d get to that eventually. Taking their time, cleansing every inch of him, top to bottom, front to back, that came first. 

Feliks helped as well, handing Toris a clean cloth when the one he was using became too filthy, bandaging what he could behind him. They were silent as they worked, had much practice with this though even on his worst days with Ivan it was never this bad. Ivan would never allow a cut to go septic, would never cut him open and leave him in such a state. He was cruel and manipulative, but always careful and sterile. This was just destructive, careless. 

"Those bastards... How could they?" Roderich’s hands were firm fisted balls, his knuckles turning white as he discarded the hat on the floor. He glanced over at the rate they were going through bandages, did the math in his head. "I don't think there's going to be enough medical supplies, we're going to have to raid somewhere close by." 

Toris looked up from his work, eyes wide. “Do you have anything for pain? He’s going to need it.” 

Feliks also looked up, a more determined and aggressive look on his face. “If you need another hand getting the stuff I’ll go with you, I can help. Been dying to get out of that camp for over a year!” 

Roderich pinched his thumbnail between his teeth, a thing he often did when thinking intensely. "Painkillers are hard to get these days, all we can do is just try and hope for the best," Roderich sighed, scratching the back of his head. "You need to stay and help Toris, Feliks; Elizaveta and I can take care of this. I promise on the next run you can tag along with us, but right now... Toris needs you more than ever."

Feliks sighed but didn’t argue. It was unbelievable that they had been rescued at all, he knew he would have another chance. That they had to work together to save Gilbert. 

“Alright…” Feliks went back to working on Gilbert with Toris. 

Eliza pulled herself together and went into her room, coming back with a small glass jar, a greenish salve inside. 

“I made this from some herbs with medicinal properties. It’s not on the same level as antibiotics or painkillers, but it should help nonetheless. Better than nothing,” she handed them the salve, knowing it wasn’t nearly enough for all the open wounds they had to deal with.

Then there was his condition beneath that, his emaciation, his lack of muscle, the malnutrition that haunted him well before he’d been taken to the boiler room. What would he be like when he woke up? Eliza was scared to think of it. Scared of how broken her friend looked. She took a steadying breath and gave herself a shake, looking over to Roderich. 

“Alright, let’s do this. Do I still look like a Nazi man or do I need to adjust anything?” 

Roderich grabbed his hat and put it back on.

“You look like the prettiest Nazi man I’ve ever seen, but yes, you pass,” he replied. They nodded to one another before stepping out into the Nazi-ruled streets. 

\----

Gilbert was pulled out of his deep slumber at the smells of boiling food… potatoes? Gilbert could have sobbed; Ivan could torch him, rip his nails off for the sake of science, but food still drove Gilbert absolutely mad, simply ravenous. A sharp ache in his belly that never fully went away.

Shouldn’t he... Wasn’t he dead? How could he possibly smell, hear?

Gilbert’s eyes slowly peeled open, surprised to find he wasn’t looking up at the old concrete walls of the boiler room, but rotten floorboards instead. He realized he was lying in a bed… How long had it been since he slept on something soft? Gilbert’s lips trembled, remaining as physically still as possible as if restraints were pulling him down. Even if he wanted to move, he couldn’t fathom the energy. It was too much of a burden as he sunk into the abyss of depression. 

He should be dead. Gilbert tried to lift his arm, to pinch at the skin to wake up from this strange predicament. He was physically unable to, his fatigue so heavy and deep he could barely summon the energy to turn his head. But then, he could hear Roderich’s and Eliza’s voice, but also… Toris and Feliks? 

What the fuck was going on? Gilbert felt his heart racing, an aching groan as he begrudgingly turned his head to a door. A door that was closed, a single chair inside the room.

What was Ivan up to? Gilbert’s lips trembled; whenever something new happened, Gilbert didn’t know what to expect, didn’t know how to cope until it kept happening, happening… He’d find a way to cope, but the first time with change was always the hardest. Gilbert brought in a shaky breath, caught as he hiccupped a fearful sob.

The door opened without a knock and Elizaveta bustled in with a blanket in her arms but dropped it when she saw Gilbert's eyes were open, she ran over to him with her eyes watering not knowing what to say, all she could come up with was a shaky “Hey, Gilbert...”

Gilbert’s eyes widened, his body tense as he released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Gilbert had expected Ivan, not the angelic beauty that peered through the door like a saint herself.

This had to be fake, another lucid dream; yet it didn’t seem to stop the wet swelling in his eyes, building up as they fell.

Please, Ivan; this isn’t fair, you're not being fair! But when was Ivan  _ ever  _ fair?

Eliza saw him crying, drawing back as if in fear, unable to speak. She felt her heart drop, it was like he was looking at a ghost, not a long time friend. She held her hands out, showing they were empty and she spoke softly, gently as she stepped over the blankets and came closer. 

“Gilbert, it’s me, Elizaveta. We rescued you, you’re safe now. No one is going to hurt you again…” Eliza felt her own tears start to fall as she came closer. Gilbert looked terrified and it broke her heart. She didn’t try to come too close too fast, stood there waiting for a sign. 

“Gilbert… I’ve missed you so much. There wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t think about you. And… And… I’m sorry we didn’t find you sooner… You never should have had to go through that, any of it, and, well, please… Say something, Gilbert,” Eliza asked quietly, unsure what to do next. He just looked so scared. 

Gilbert had to convince himself this was all a dream; if he didn't, when he’ll wake up, it’ll hurt just as it had. His head dropped, exhausted, silently shaking his head as if to say;

_ No more Ivan, please… _

Eliza watched as Gilbert fell back against the pillows and slowly shook his head. She bit her lip and nodded, sniffing and steadying herself. She had to be strong for Gilbert, she couldn’t just fall apart. 

“That’s okay, Gilbert. Whenever you’re ready… Just know you’re with friends now,” Eliza said, daring to come closer and actually pick up his hand, holding it reassuringly and squeezing gently as if his bones would snap at any given moment like a twig.

1 month

Elizaveta couldn't get used to this new, diminished, paper-thin Gilbert. Getting him and the others out of the lab had been a harrowing and narrow escape. It felt miraculous when they’d driven away, Gilbert thin and broken in his body bag, still barely alive with a weak pulse and reedy breath. 

It had been a week since then and he’d been bedridden, sleeping most of the time, only waking to change bandages and drink some broth, take some medicine before lying back down, and only to sleep more. He’d had a fever stemming from a terrible infection in his ass which had essentially become an open wound. 

Seeing him like that made Elizaveta feel furious, terrified, disgusted by what they’d done to him. What cruelty had reduced him to. She thought of herself as having a strong stomach but even she had to turn away the first time she saw the state of his ass. The care he would require made her feel faint. She was grateful for Toris taking the lead nursing role, treating his cuts, his wounds, his infection. During the first 24 hours after his rescue, they weren’t sure he was going to make it. Delirious, wavering in and out of consciousness. He didn’t recognize who they were. 

But once she and Roderich raided a Nazi medical truck and took all their medicine and supplies, Gilbert was able to turn the corner with the help of antibiotics and he was no longer in danger of dying.

Today was the first time Gilbert was strong enough to stand up and shuffle to the bathroom with Toris’ and Elizaveta’s help. They decided it was best to only have a shot at it at least once a week, it was still much too soon for Gilbert to be making any walking progress. He was still nothing but skin and bone.

Gilbert was talking again, but only barely; his words breathless but he seemed more coherent, more awake. He could only mumble short one-word responses but at least he was beginning to regain a semblance of self. He couldn’t talk about what had happened to him in the lab and they didn’t ask but through Toris and Feliks she knew he’d been systematically starved for a year and hadn’t eaten real food in just as long, being cruelly sustained on IV nutrients alone. 

So once he could stay awake for more than a few minutes at a time, and he could keep down the broth consistently, Elizaveta decided it would be the perfect time to make perogies in celebration of Gilbert’s progress. She wanted his first solid food to be special. 

The dough was easy enough to make, a simple mixture of flour, egg, water, and just a sprinkle of salt. After mixing, Elizaveta reached over to the warm water and began to add the water gradually, slowly adding it to the bowl until the dough went soft and slightly sticky. The dough was placed in the refrigerator for an hour or so until it became cool and firm.

Elizaveta enjoyed the next process, as she rolled out the dough and began to shape the pierogies and stuff them with meat bought fresh from the butcher by Roderich in his Nazi uniform. With a rolling pin, she rolled the dough out until it became very thin and began to cut them into circles, place a heaping tablespoon of potato and a meaty filling on each side. 

Elizaveta folded the dough and pinched the edges to seal the meat, repeating on each pastry as she began to place the prepared pierogies in a single file on a plate. It was calm, repetitive work that soothed her overworked mind. She couldn’t stop thinking about Gilbert, the war, everything they had lost, but for a few minutes, it all faded as her attention stayed with her fingers, the simple active meditation of pinching together dough balls, preparing food for loved ones. 

When she got through all the dough and filling, the Hungarian woman placed the dumplings back into the boiling water, making sure to give them a quick nudge with her spoon so they didn’t stick to the bottom of the pot. When they began to rise to the top, she eagerly scooped them out and placed them on a buttered plate to cool for a few minutes. 

On the stove a pan had been boiling with oil, it was finally time to fry the pierogies in butter - it was satisfying to watch the edges turn golden and crisp, spooning them out once cooked on a napkin, letting the oil soak up the paper as she placed her hands on her hips, smiling in achievement at her success so far. Eagerly she placed each pierogi on a plate, four on each plate in total, accompanied by some cabbage and a sausage skillet, leftovers from yesterday. 

She knew Gilbert would be surprised by the lovely meal, they didn’t often have time for involved recipes like pierogies but she wanted to make something special for the albino to celebrate him coming home, breaking through the infection, starting to wake up again. He deserved so much more than this, but it was a start.

\----

Gilbert dreamed. Though it was hard to tell since his dreams no longer told fantastical nonsense stories to ponder lazily about as he woke up. No, now his dreams simply told him stories he already knew, reminding him of the horrors that were invented. Reminded Gilbert of his miserable existence. Dreams had just become macabre trips down memory lane. 

Like this one. 

Gilbert slowly stirred awake as he heard a loud sizzling noise, pulled away from his delirious sleep as a lovely aroma filled his nostrils, eyes slowly peering open as he slowly began to wake. But the sounds… The sizzling noise of flesh bubbling… Gilbert felt himself seizing up, couldn’t even turn his body so he could vomit on the floor, shuddering at the intense memory as he puked on himself. 

Toris jumped up from his seat next to the bed, startled by Gilbert suddenly seizing over and vomiting, and quickly grabbed a towel to clean up the sick and change the bedsheets. 

"Oh, Gilbert, I'm so sorry…." Toris held his forehead, smoothed his hair out of his face, rubbed his back in big circles as the dry heaving continued. Toris hadn't left his side and was determined to help Gilbert heal. 

"Is it the smell that made you feel sick? Maybe your gag reflex is still sensitive to smells or-"

"Ivan…" Gilbert whispered his name as if he spoke of the devil Lucifer himself, pale as winter snow.

Toris felt the familiar hatred. That man who's still haunted Gilbert even now. When would they be truly free of him? 

“It’s okay, it’s okay… I understand. Which time was it?”

“G-Girl…”

Toris flinched at the thought. He hadn’t been in the room when the radiation took effect, but he’d been the one who had to clean up the remains. He’d seen how Gilbert was carried out of the lab shell shocked and coated in a layer of gore and blisters. The albino had been forced to watch the whole process. He gave a deep sigh, feeling sympathy for Gilbert but knowing there wasn't anything he could do. He needed time, safety, and patience. He sat on the bed beside Gilbert, continued to rub his back soothingly.

“It wasn’t your fault. There’s nothing you could have done to help her.” 

“It’s my fault, my  _ fault.  _ If… I’d tried harder..” 

“It’s not your fault, Gilbert…” Toris sighed, pinching his lip with his teeth. “Do you want some water? Let me get you a glass.” Toris stood and fetched some water. 

Elizaveta leaned around the door when Toris had come back. 

“Oh, Gilbert! I’m so glad you’re awake! We made something special for you, think you can handle some solid food? We made your favorite! Pierogies!” 

Gilbert looked up from the bed to Elizaveta, her gorgeous healthy hair shining in the evening sunlight. He still couldn’t believe she was real, often found himself staring at her wherever she was in his recovery room like she was a mirage that could fade away at any moment.

Elizaveta came into the room with a tray laden with steaming pierogies. Behind her Roderich and Feliks followed, both beaming and pleased with themselves. Feliks was acting especially delighted as he’d gotten into the cooking sherry was just a bit tipsy. They gathered around the bed, placed the warm glistening morsels on his lap, and smiled expectantly, waiting to dive in until he had the first bite. 

Gilbert wasn’t too sure if he was overwhelmed by the nightmare he had to relive or the kind generosity of his friends… Friends… His friends showered him with love every day, generosity, loyalty, and kindness Gilbert didn't even  _ deserve -  _ tears pooled at the corners of his eyes as he looked up into everyone’s eyes before the bowl of food was offered on his lap; it looked  _ gorgeous _ , the fragrant steam rising from them was mouthwatering _.  _

Gilbert felt his mouth swelling and drooling to try the solid food, ravenous as he picked the fork up with shaky hands to eagerly stab through a pierogi and bring it to his mouth. Gilbert moaned, enjoying the feeling as the warm flavor exploded on his withered tongue, waking up his senses that had been neglected for so long. The taste was nearly orgasmic, feeling it slide solid down his throat, filled up his belly, and made him feel warm, safe, cared for… As he slurped up another buttery bite, the tears fell down his sharp cheekbones as he put his fork back down on his lap, sniffling loudly as he whipped the snot away with his sleeve. 

It was then that Gilbert finally realized he was no longer held down by Ivan’s clutches, for he was truly out of that hellhole. His coffin. He hadn’t really believed everything was real until he tasted food for the first time.

The others were concerned and pressed in closer, asking him what was wrong, asking him what they could do. But everything was fine. Gilbert was just so overwhelmed by the flavor of solid food after nearly a year of not eating. The simple act of putting a morsel in his mouth nearly broke him.

Seeing Gilbert cry over pierogies Elizaveta was determined he would never go hungry again. 

They would find a way to survive this war and make things right again. 

2 months 

Gilbert stared up at the ceiling, counting the wooden cracks over a million times before as Hitler's voice and cheers roared, causing the radio to go all static again. 

Gilbert hated times like these when he was left alone, the most. Simply couldn’t stop looking over his shoulder every second and jerking at every possible noise. Even after two months he still was jumpy.

Gilbert closed his eyes, at least here, he felt safe, knew that he was with his friends and Ivan wasn’t going to wake him up for another nightmare of events... His sick mind games…

Gilbert pulled his knees close to his chest as he heard the notepad fall to the floor with a dull thud.

Hitler.

Gilbert grasped at the grey sheets with white knuckles, remembering the first time clear as day when Gilbert had ever properly met the man; tied down to his wheelchair as if prepared for an offering, a sacrifice; naked and vulnerable to the hungry eyes of very powerful men that would tear him apart at any given chance.

It was difficult; to move on, to think about what happened to him inside those walls. All he ever wanted was to never speak of it again, never think of it. Yet he was constantly reminded whenever he closed his eyes, felt his body grow hot as he thought of Ivan’s thick cock lodged inside him, keeping him full, making him feel useful. 

A cock sleeve was all he was ever good at being. Even now, he still believed that.

Gilbert slept more than he was awake as if his body was trying to make up for the lost deprived sleep that Ivan had stolen. Though he would have preferred to be awake, for the nightmares were constant, left to take advantage of their sleeping victim, defenseless in his dreams. Gilbert couldn’t help but feel guilty that his friends had put so much health and effort into him when all he could do was just lay in bed, he couldn’t give the spare energy or time to do anything in return and Gilbert simply couldn’t stand it. 

Listening to the radio and taking notes on Nazi propaganda and tactics seemed like a simple enough task for someone bedridden, but just hearing Hitler’s voice was more than enough to put him back in that mindset, being towered over and dominated. It was Ivan who had done the most damage, but it was Hitler who allowed it. He’d created the climate and the system of genocide and abuse. He’d given that monster the perfect playground. 

Gilbert curled into himself and shivered. As long as he was in this country ruled by the madman, he still felt trapped. 

3 months

Elizaveta had been working herself to the bone. Between caring for Gilbert, planning more sabotage, and helping more prisoners escape across the border. Still, she noticed how Roderich hung back from Gilbert. Saw the way he hesitated and avoided him. At first, she thought it was due to shock at seeing the state of their friend, how badly he’d been mangled by the Nazis, but it had been months and Roderich still treated him as if contaminated. She decided to do something about it this morning as the two of them were poring over blueprints and plans in the morning with their tea and hardtack. 

“So, it’s about time we changed Gilbert’s sheets again. Think you and Toris can handle it? I’m heading to the market today to see what new info I can learn,” Eliza said nonchalantly, only looking at Roderich through the corner of her eye.

Roderich looked up sharply from his earl grey, barely concealing the fearful guilt in his eyes. Besides a few scant words here and there, he and Gilbert hadn’t really talked since his return.

Roderich was plagued by nightmares of raping Gilbert, of being forced to do such a horrid act in that stinking hellhole. He didn’t think Gilbert was conscious to remember, but he couldn’t look at him without remembering his part, without feeling like the worst scum on earth. He was no better than the Nazis, how could he smile and act so oblivious around their victim? When he’d hurt him in the same way? It didn’t matter he was being blackmailed, the truth of the matter was he still did it. And he was terrified of anyone, of everyone, finding out about it. 

So he’d been avoiding Gilbert and of course, Eliza noticed. She was sharp.

“I, uh, I thought I would go… The lab…” 

Eliza frowned at him, setting her half-eaten biscuit down. 

“Really Roddy? You know you can’t go back there after what happened to get Gilbert out…”

“I, well, yes, of course,"

“You just don’t like doing laundry?” 

Roderich looked at her at a loss for words. 

“Of course it’s nothing so simple as that…” 

“Then what’s going on? Since we rescued him you can barely look at Gilbert. It’s not his fault he was used like that!” 

“I know! I know, Eliza… Truly… I’m not ashamed of him, I’m ashamed of myself…” Roderich looked down, fists clenched up on the table. 

“We got him out as soon as we could, as soon as we knew… There’s nothing we could have done before that. Don’t blame yourself for their evil. Ludwig is the one who betrayed him, not you,” Eliza said reassuringly, reaching across to clasp his clenched fist. She softened, knew it was hard for all of them and everyone handled it differently. “It’s okay, just take it slow and spend some more time with him. You’ll see, he doesn’t blame you.”

Roderich sighed, taking Eliza’s hand in his own. 

“I feel like he should though…” he said quietly, unable to admit more than that. Eliza would hate him forever if she ever found out. “You’re right… I’ll help out. Don’t worry about it,” Roderich reassured her. 

He stood up and wished her good luck on her reconnaissance and took a deep breath, readying himself to face Gilbert alone for an extended period of time, for the first time since he’d raped him. 

What could possibly go wrong?

\----

Gilbert felt trapped; his stomach ached deep as he had the urge to piss, it was easy to distract himself from it at first, but then he was restless as he squirmed in the bedsheets, a soft moan falling past his lips as he tried to ignore the growing sensation in his belly, the desperation; deep breaths, deep breaths… One, two, three….

The door clicked open and Gilbert jumped, startled as he felt sudden warmth spreading across his thighs. He heard the figure come closer to the bed, frightened by his hands reaching toward him and Gilbert went into full appeasement mode and grabbed at the man’s waist, Ivan, and tried to pull his zipper down frantically as he whispered the only words that were drilled into his memory, wet; fat tears rolling down his sharp cheekbones as he inhaled, only for an ugly sob to break out as word’s that could only be heard as;

“I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry; please, I’m sorry…”

The less Ivan spoke the more tense Gilbert became, seizing as his fingers trembled to work the flimsy zipper, no, no, Ivan didn't like it when he was slow!

“S-sorry… Sorry…”

Roderich was shocked when he came into the room. He was surprised when Gilbert was startled by the door opening, suddenly a wet patch spreading beneath him, and as Roderich came closer asking what was wrong the albino started crying and desperately trying to work his pants down once he was in range, breathlessly repeating apologies and unable to meet his eyes. 

“Gilbert! Please, stop, it’s okay! You don’t have to do this, it’s okay!” Roderich felt his own voice crack as he pushed Gilbert’s hands away from his pants. He was terrified, suddenly realizing that Gilbert still expected that from him, still expected him to use him like that. Gilbert must have been awake when Roderich raped him… The realization, the way Gilbert begged and simpered, it all broke through the outer shell Roderich had constructed over the last few weeks. 

Roderich sank to his knees by the bedside, holding Gilbert’s hands in his own, bowing his head begging. 

“Please, Gilbert, I’m the one who is sorry… I never should have touched you, I should have gotten you out the first second I saw you… It’s my fault you suffered so much, and even by my own actions… Gilbert…” Roderich moaned, trailing off as the admission became too much. He cracked and felt a repressed sob find its way out. He hadn’t cried in years, not since his family had been taken… 

Gilbert stared at Roderich as if he had three heads as he sunk to his knees, his eyebrows pinching up to his hairline; why was Roderich upset? A frown as his lips pulled down to the wooden floorboards, he thought about reaching out, petting Roderich’s soft brown curls; but did not find the energy as his fingers twitched and Roderich held his hands; warm and comforting as he smiled, although sad and empty. 

“Is okay, Roddy…”

“It’s  _ not _ okay! You can’t even see me without pissing the bed… I… Never should have hurt you like that, I can never forgive myself… I understand if you can’t forgive me either,” Roderich stuttered out, still fighting back the tears. 

Gilbert wasn’t too sure what Roderich was on about; how could Roderich have hurt him? He’d done anything but that, so much so it amused him as he chuckled, although abruptly stopping as his chest heaved into a fit of coughs.

Roderich sat up from his kneeling position and rubbed Gilbert’s back instinctively. Realizing he’d already broken his own promise about not touching the albino ever again. But who was he kidding? He’d need to touch him to help get him out of the bed and change the sheets. Everything about it felt wrong. He had no right to see Gilbert this vulnerable, to be trusted with him in this weak state. But there was no one else around and with a deep sigh, Roderich pushed his self-consuming guilt away and went about helping Gilbert sit up. 

“Come on, I’ll help you stand. We need to change the bed,” Roderich said woodenly, putting his emotions away as neatly as laundry folded into a drawer. 

Gilbert leaned against his friend to help him stand, still trembling from the coughing fit. He didn’t know what to make of the outburst, just knew it was his fault Roderich had broken down. 

His friends couldn’t even stand to see him, and as much as he depended on them, Gilbert couldn’t really blame Roderich for being disgusted with him. Just grateful he still was willing to help despite that ugly truth about himself. 

4 months 

“A…. B…”

Gilbert's voice strained as he struggled to mouth the letters. His friends had declared it only right to teach Gilbert how to properly speak again, the ability was stolen by Ivan as he was left to use nothing but his lips to keep his cock warm through the lonely nights.

The only thing he could muster were sounds, however, whatever word did manage to slip through was weak and barely above a whisper; for Gilbert was forever horrified Ivan would appear and cut his vocal cords just like he had threatened. 

The albino sighed, exhausted; Toris had been teaching him for a good hour and he felt like he was going nowhere, shoulders falling slack as he pulled his lips into a thin grim, shaking his head. His mouth and lips and throat were so unused to speaking, he felt like a child from having to relearn such basic skills. 

Despite all things against him and his friend’s moral support, Gilbert couldn’t help but believe Ivan was right. That he was the real problem.

“Come on, Gilbert, you can do it; we have all the time in the world.”

A scoff, Toris was so gullible; how could he be so sure of that? 

Gilbert rolled on his side so he didn't have to look at the Lithuanian man's face anymore, a silent gesture that he didn’t want to indulge in his teachings. It only made him feel more miserable and reassured Gilbert he was useless. 

Eliza saw him as pathetic. Roderich was afraid of him. What good would his words do against that? 

5 months 

Gilbert growled with frustration as the pen slipped between his fingers, dripping ink all over the cotton sheets; he was trying to spell his name, but before he had gotten to the L his hand gave way, crumbling under the pressure and Gilbert threw the notepad and paper away - or at least, tried to; for it only managed to reach to the end of his bed as he sunk into the pillows, eyelashes fluttering as he inhaled deep. 

During the times when Gilbert was alone; he spoke to himself, practiced his word’s while his mind wandered helplessly back to Ivan, whenever he thought of Ivan’s cock filling his mouth; despite it, it made him want to talk less, give the man less of an opportunity to show his vulnerability; yet his friends, his sweet dear friends encouraged him everyday and slowly, it somewhat worked; Gilbert couldn’t help but think every now and then; maybe, he was worth more than a cock sleeve.

\----

Gilbert closed his eyes, holding onto Roderich and Elizaveta for dear life as he weakly grasped onto their shoulders for support; a life line, he moaned, a soft deep aching sound as he tried to push himself up; he was barely standing; he was like a minute-old fawn trying to walk for the first time, or better yet an old man.

There was no muscle to keep his body held upright; breaking out into a sweat as his fingers crumbled.

“Gilbert -- Please, don’t push yourself...” Elizaveta whispered, grasping onto Gilbert 

Despite the reassurance from the Hungarian girl, Gilbert couldn’t help but feel even more determined to push himself. Distantly in his ear, he could hear Ivan laughing at him, mocking his attempts. He wasn’t too sure who he had grabbed, but Roderich winced.

“I can do it. I can do it,” Gilbert said, panting between gritted teeth; come on, come on, one more push; one more push! Gilbert screwed his eyes tight as he found himself standing as if he had ten kilos worth of books on his shoulders, he wasn’t at full height; but -- he was standing! 

Gilbert couldn’t help but smile with victory, a genuine smile as he turned to Roderich and Elizaveta with child-like excitement.

“Look- look!” A breathless laugh, pure from the heart as the sound felt foreign to his ears.

Elizaveta looked like she was about to cry at any given moment, having to put Gilbert back down on the bed as Roderich pulled the clean sheets over Gilbert.

Elizaveta was wiping the tears from her eyes as she leaned over to give Gilbert a soft kiss on his forehead, his white eyelashes fluttering as his heart flipped in a way it hadn’t done for a very long time.

“We’re so proud of you, Gilbert.”

6 months

Feliks had been the lighthearted buoyant force of energy around the house. He cleaned, he chided and he made jokes, fully settling into his role as den mother for the band of activists and refugees. Once Gilbert could eat, could hobble around, and was acting slightly more like his old self, without anyone’s encouragement or permission, Feliks decided to throw Gilbert a party. 

He snuck out with Roderich and Eliza on one of their runs and acquired his own list of items, champagne, makeup, chocolate, other contraband that he hadn’t seen for years as a prisoner, and even the general public had gone without. He stuffed everything into his jacket, already sewn in with extra pockets, and didn’t say a word when he met back up with Eliza and Rod. He brought his haul in and told Toris about his plan but no one else. It wouldn’t be a surprise otherwise… 

Together they worked to doll him up, apply makeup, foundation, blush, eye shadow and mascara, even fake lashes, and a deepest crimson red lipstick. He put on a chintzy cocktail dress and heels and practiced his routine while Toris prepared food tidbits on a silver tray and champagne. He’d practiced it in his mind for weeks, never having the time or opportunity to wow his friends but there was finally an opportunity. They were so covered in the grim Nazi grey throughout the city that Felix was delighted to provide some color and warmth at home. If the theatres were shut down, he’d put on a private show for them instead. 

Toris put on a wavy record in Gilbert’s room, sitting down innocently as the other three looked up in question. They had all taken to eating in Gilbert’s room so he could be part of it without needing to move as much but had no idea what Feliks was planning. 

When the fanfare of cymbals went off in the intro of the swinging brass-heavy song, Feliks shot a leg out into the doorway, showing off a single, slim, shaved, heeled thigh before drawing it back. With the next instrumental flourish, he slid his foot out again, further this time, one cheek of his sequined ass showing around the door frame. Then when the music swelled and leaped into the chorus Feliks gyrated fully into the doorway, slinking up and down the threshold, still facing away and working his hips and legs and arms like some sort of Hollywood starlet. 

When the song finally went back to the verse, Feliks finally turned around, revealing his fully done up face, his feminine look, his sultry dance, and without hesitation he sashayed into the room and began flirting wordlessly with every single one of his friends, falling to his knees before Elizaveta, kissing her hand and rising with a spin to the music, sliding onto Roderich’s lap and laughing a the way he blushed and held his hands up, giving Gilbert a wink and leaning in for a chaste peck on the cheek, finally as the music hit its crescendo, the climax of the bridge, Feliks grabbed Toris from his chair by the door and spun him around and around the room, laughing as he did so, forcing Toris to catch him as he flung himself backward, kicking a leg out of the finale of the song. 

Toris managed to catch him but only barely, both of them panting as the song ended and he pulled Feliks back upright and into a tight hug. Gilbert had a mouthful of meat in his mouth before he finally decided to chew and swallow, he couldn’t get over how amazing Feliks looked.

He couldn’t remember the last time he heard music, it made his heart swell as his lips pinched upwards, tapping his finger on the tray despite his lack of rhythm.

Gilbert cheered, almost spilling the three meals Elizaveta had lovingly made.

“Oops-- sorry, gotta lil’ bit excited,” Gilbert grinned sheepishly; by watching Felik’s fevered show, just by watching him dance gave Gilbert with itchy toes, felt the urge to dance along with him, he felt happy for the Polish man as Feliks glistened in the dim lights.

“Feliks-- you were amazing!”

“Well, like, duh! I used to put on a weekly cabaret! Until those fuckin’ Nazis ruined it! You should have seen me with all my props and a full stage, and lights and a wig… Oh, it’s like being transported,” Feliks swooned, forcing Toris to catch him yet again. He’d been very touchy-feely with Toris and the champagne he’d snuck out earlier wasn’t helping matters. 

He spun away before Toris had a chance to protest and grabbed the tray they’d prepared, bringing the drinks around to everyone. They only had one real champagne flute - given to Gilbert - and the rest of them made do with mugs and cups. Feliks happily cheered when he uncorked the bottle, watching the cork fly haphazardly across the room, and went about pouring the fizzy bubbling wine. Once everyone had something to hold, Feliks lifted his cup, feeling happier than he had in months, years. 

“To defeating the Nazis and freeing all prisoners!” Feliks declared triumphantly.

Gilbert raised his glass, a small gesture, for he couldn’t bring his hand all the way up; Feliks’ personality was intoxicatingly absorbent and he couldn’t have enjoyed a better night.

A gentle sip before Gilbert placed down the beverage, scooting it over in Roderich’s direction.

Felik’s was a beautiful distraction, but it could only last so long, Ivan’s soft voice whispering in his ear as he reached the lobe to scratch at it.

“Hey, um, guys... Sorry to be a bummer... But I’m feeling really tired, thanks for the entertainment, Feliks.”

Feliks dropped his thigh from the way it was hooked around Toris and he stood there in his dress and heels and pouted. 

“Come on, Gil! At least let’s all have one drink together! This is our first time drinking together, right? Give me at least one drink and then we’ll all get out of your hair!” Feliks demanded, already going for a refill since he’d drained his cup in the first toast. 

Despite Felik’s protest, once Roderich and Elizaveta heard that he was tired they had already started moving. 

“Come on, Feliks. We can keep drinking out here. Let’s let him sleep,” Eliza said with a smile taking Toris by the arm and taking him with her as a hostage. Feliks was sure to follow she knew. Roderich leaned over and picked up Gilbert’s glass. Besides the one sip it was untouched. 

“I’ll take this for you. Get some rest, Gilbert,” Roderich said, turning stiffly to leave. 

“What? Really? You’re all giving up that easy?” Feliks stood in the room in a huff but soon it was just him and Gilbert left. He grinned and turned, sneaking a hand into his fake bra and drawing out two packs of cigarettes, one from each breast. 

“Here, I bet you could use these more than me. Especially if you’re not drinking,” Feliks said hurriedly. He gave him a pack of matches to start and headed out after the rest of the group without a backward glance into the darkened room, already loudly complaining how his cup was empty. 

Gilbert blinked at the packet of cigarettes; he remembered Ivan lighting them more than once in the lab, but what was so damn good about them anyway? Gilbert pursed his lips as he took out a stick, finding some struggle to light the match and set the cigarette aflame.

It couldn’t be too hard.

Right?

Gilbert brought the bud to his lips and inhaled deeply, only for him to cough with heaps of smoke through his nose and mouth as he dropped the lighter.

“T--fuck--” Gilbert tried to stifle his coughing, gulping as if to get rid of the itchy feeling. 

How the hell was this any good?

Though, despite sputtering and coughing and barely getting anything into his lungs, Gilbert still felt a head change. Not better, not euphoric, but… different. It felt relaxing in a way, like warmth from his lungs to his brain. He looked at the glowing tip, how it continued to smolder without his engagement. He could let it burn out and throw the rest out. But he knew the risk Feliks went through to get these. He knew what a full pack was worth (one fuck in his ass) and it made it impossible to throw the rest away. This was what those men had paid for him. Even if it was distasteful and made him cough, he wanted to experience it himself. 

He brought the burning cigarette to his lips and took a more cautious draw, pulling smoke into his mouth and holding it, cooling it there before breathing in more deeply and delivering it to his lungs. It helped, he still coughed but not as violently. And the nice warm heady feeling was growing stronger. 

Anything to drown it out. What had been done to him. Gilbert took another drag and decided he liked it. 

7 months

Gilbert was slowly finding the strength with Elizaveta’s lovely homemade balanced meals, for he was able to walk and talk that little bit more, but he could only go so far without collapsing in a heap of sweat if he was left alone within in the apartment building while all occupants were out, helping the world outside of his little box.

It had become suffocating over time, even with his knowledge; Gilbert found himself wanting to help more, learn more. Keep his brain active from the deep ache within his ass as Ivan’s voice whispered in his ears; “this is all your good for, my little guinea pig. A cock sleeve is all you will ever be good for.”

Gilbert tensed, his body going rigid as Ivan’s voice echoed in his head that surged through him to try and work even harder, wanting to prove to that insignificant bastard he was worth more than just a useless cock sleeve.

\----

Behind his closed eyes Gilbert remembered Ivan’s vivid touch clear as day, his thick cock had become so accommodating and Gilbert couldn’t help but feel strangely empty and fractured despite the relief of no longer having to go through Ivan’s sexual torture, yet somehow, no matter what conclusion he could come to the albino felt simply useless. Useless.  _ Useless _ .

Gilbert tongued the roof of his mouth as he imagined Ivan’s large, brutal hands tracing the curve of his ass, before gripping onto the soft flesh violently to part his cheeks, his cock sinking into the warmth of Gilbert’s ass. 

Gilbert didn’t understand why, but his dick twitched with life. He felt disgusted with himself and groaned in discomfort, smothering his face in the soft pillow as he tried to get rid of the thoughts like they were the plague itself. 

His hands remained still, for Gilbert didn't want to give in to the satisfaction of relieving himself, didn’t want to give Ivan that satisfaction -- even if he wasn’t here, Gilbert still felt the terror that he would appear in the middle of the night and take him away again back into his freak of a circus. 

Gilbert felt so exhausted, incredibly so with the ongoing war inside his head that didn’t even distract his thriving cock, raised high like a flag pole as it pressed against his shrunken belly. 

Gilbert sighed angrily and fished around for the pack of cigarettes, fumbling around to quickly set one alight as he inhaled the smoke as if it was a lifeline, surging into a coughing fit as he went too fast to inhale. 

That night, Gilbert barely slept a wink. The first to usually arise in the morning was Elizaveta, doing her basic chores, then Roderich, and everyone else followed suit. As he was checked on, Gilbert pretended to fall asleep and hid the cigarette bud under his pillow.

8 months

Gilbert often kept his head down in a book, reading old blueprints, even maps and taking notes, his handwriting becoming far more legible than five months ago. 

The radio gave off static sounds as he heard Adolf Hitler’s voice preach, his words surging Gilbert into a frenzy of wanting to see this man  _ dead. _ This man turned his world upside down, turned his only family against him, put him through hell and back… oh...Gilbert looked down at the notepad, cringing at the large blotch of ink that began to unfurl within the old, worn pages. 

“Tsk, damn bastard.”

Gilbert had to find himself useful, for he couldn’t just lay there and do… nothing… As his friends fought with their lives every day against the Nazi regime and their cruel crimes, the savage justification for what they did to the poor and the weak. Those who didn’t meet the criteria. Ludwig, oh, he would have been a perfect candidate. Perhaps if Gilbert paid more attention to his brother, he wouldn’t have been driven into joining such a polluted army, and wanted to prove his self worth for some…. Deranged, unempathetic man. Gilbert almost pitied Ludwig… almost. 

Gilbert put down the notepad, no longer being able to concentrate on the task at hand. Ivan haunted him, but even beyond that, whenever his thoughts turned to Ludwig he still couldn’t stop the wall of grief and regret that shot up inside him. 

Roderich had given him the plans to help deploy some Jewish prisoners and achieve a successful breakthrough, plan the negatives, in-betweens, the nooks and crannies of the maps he held within his possession. Gilbert had poured over it and memorized it but couldn’t articulate the information he wanted. 

He took a deep breath. He had to keep trying. 

9 months

Things could perhaps almost be considered as normal, normal as things could get with what had happened to Gilbert as he was slowly rebuilding his name, his identity, his soul, his personality, his everything; his will and reason to live set hard as a stone and he felt himself smiling for the first time since he was on the brink of death; Toris had slipped on a wet patch of ice as Gilbert grasped onto the railings for dear life, his body shuddering in full-blown convulsions of laughter that could have shaken the Earth's core.

10 months

The sun was filtering through the cracks of the old rotten wood as Gilbert shouted through the bedroom door.

“Hey, yo! Eliza, you busy? Can you teach me a game?” Gilbert asks curiously, almost innocently so. “Whatever it’s going to be though, I’m gonna win. Hands down, bitch.” 

It was exhausting even talking but Gilbert was starting to feel like himself again, despite not feeling like that at all. It was difficult to explain.

“Oh, are you now?” Eliza asked as she strolled gamely into the room. 

“Mm, you bet. If I winnnnnnnn….. You gotta kiss me on the cheek, hehe.”

“Oh, so cheeky.”

Gilbert grinned, although instantly regretted it as his cheeks began to hurt from smiling so much. “Oh, I’m so wounded, Eliza.”

Eliza came into the room and started teaching Gilly a game. Backgammon. As she explained the rules she curled her nose in disgust as her eyes settled on the overflowing ashtray next to Gilbert’s bed. 

“Really, Gil? Do you have to smoke inside? There’s a window right there, it’s good for you to practice walking anyway and this room reeks,” Eliza chided as her hands hovered over the smooth stone circles. 

Gilbert exaggeratedly rolled his eyes. “Who are you, my damn mother?” Perhaps that was harsher than it sounded, he couldn’t help but be snappy towards her though. It made Gilbert feel awful, considering how much time and dedication the Hungarian girl cared for him when he was practically on the brink, begging for death. 

Eliza frowned at him. She didn’t take it personally but she wasn’t about to stay there if he was going to be so snippy. She stood up ready to head out, she had so many other things to do, they were in the middle of planning their next raid. 

“I’ll come back when you actually want to play. Here, you can look at this in the meantime,” Eliza said dismissively, pulling a morse code booklet from her back pocket and tossing it at Gilbert’s lap.

Gilbert frowned, as Eliza filtered herself through the door Gilbert felt pulled by an invisible magnet to reach for the pack of crushed cigarettes underneath his pillow, hastily taking one out before setting it alight with a bit of struggle - starving; Gilbert inhaled, his shoulders fallen slack as he pulled his legs over the bed to have his feet touch the floor, yet made no move to get up any time soon. 

Without anything else to do, no one to play with, he picked up the morse code booklet and began to look it over, tapping out the different letters on his knee as he smoked the cigarette down to a glowing red cherry. 

11 months

“The hell is all this junk?” Gilbert observed as he swung his legs around the wooden bed frame, watching intently as it looked about any minute Roderich was going to pull a muscle over carrying five, thick heavy leather-bound books.

“Need any help?”

“No, no, fine!” Elizaveta ushered herself in, sighing as she clapped to get rid of the dust on her hands. “You should be resting, let us handle it.”

“This -- is for safekeeping, just in case,” came Roderich’s voice soon after.

Gilbert pulled a glum expression, watching Elizaveta and Roderich turn back to the door and be out on their way again. 

Upon closer observation, there seemed to be a conjured pile of religious books, artworks of all kinds, mirrors, just… junk. Junk that Roderich prided to be religious artifacts. It didn’t make much sense at all why they were hoarding it all. Gilbert bent down to further inspect one of the paintings. There was a little boy with brown hair, his eyes a vibrant purple as a golden retriever was by its side - it looked eerily like Roderich, but smaller. The paper was textured as he ran his fingers along it, the portrait large as his fingers skimmed across a large bullet hole going through the woman’s head, the paper split and ripped from the blow.

Maybe he was thinking too much about it, but how many other little boys did he know that had brown luscious hair and purple eyes?

Purple… Gilbert couldn’t believe it at first, watched as the little boy manifested into the spitting image of Ivan. He looked nothing like him, but simply thinking of the color of his eyes was enough to summon the shadow in his mind.

Gilbert stared on with a haunted expression, his eyes growing wide as his hands balled into a fist, punching a hole into the material before launching himself back. 

Frantically, Gilbert looked around; then back at the paper, his face… was gone. He shook and stepped back, flinging a sheet over the top of the stack of paintings to hide the damage he’d done. If they asked he’d blame the Nazis later. To stop thinking of Ivan Gilbert turned and fished out another cigarette, rhythmically tapping out his thoughts in morse code against his leg. 

W. H. Y. C. A. N. T. I. M. O. V. E. O. N.

12 months

“Look, I want to help you guys. You can’t expect me to stay in here forever.” Gilbert sighed, scratching the back of his head as he thought about how he could convince his friends.

"I can walk, I can talk; jump, eat; without you guys, we all know I would have been left for dead. Let me help you, let me be useful to you guys; I'm sick of staying cooped up inside of here,” Gilbert said, his voice edged with desperation. 

Eliza and Roderich looked unconvinced at one another. It was true. He’d healed miraculously over the course of a year, he could hold a conversation now, could walk - though his endurance and strength were still laughably frail - it was true that he was no longer bedridden. 

“I don’t know… This is a pretty big mission to try and take on your first time. It took us months to break into a Nazi facility,” Eliza said hesitantly. 

“Yeah, but you didn’t have me back then either! Believe me, I can make him look however he needs. He won’t need to talk, just look pretty. It’ll be easy. And if they turn him away, he’ll just go home. Come on! Gilbert deserves a chance to get back at them!” Feliks argued from the side, more than willing to throw his weight behind Gilbert. They’d grown much closer during his convalescence. 

“It’s just too dangerous! Even if Ivan isn’t anywhere near there are still other Nazi members who would recognize him! Ludwig is still in their ranks, what happens if he sees him?” Roderich argued. 

Gilbert clenched his hands into fists, knuckles turning white at the mention of Ivan and Ludwig in the same sentence.

“They won’t recognize me. You doubt Eliza’s skill with her makeup?” Gilbert huffed with a roll of his eyes. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, pal. She does wonders with her hands.”

Eliza blushed and swatted at Gilbert playfully. “Stop it, I’m not that good. But seriously Gil… You do have to think about every outcome and plan for it. What will you do if you see your brother there at this event?” 

“Then I’ll leave. Simple as that,” Gilbert stated although he knew otherwise what his heartstrings were pulling him to do. However, it would mean sabotaging the plan, so Gilbert could only hope that Ludwig wasn’t at the party. 

"He doesn't deserve your kindness, Gilbert - look what he did to you! Walking away without shooting him is messed up!" Feliks remarked loudly from the back.

“Who said anything about shooting?” Gilbert glared at the Polish man. “Look. What more can I say? If I see him I’ll come back, if I don’t see him; the plan continues as it should; just please, trust me? That’s all I ask.” Gilbert couldn’t help but pinch the skin of his cuticles as he found it more than difficult to convince his friends. 

He was worth more than a cocksleeve and he needed to prove it. To himself if no one else. 

“Bitte, Eliza.” If there was anyone Gilbert could convince it was Eliza, although hardened, she was easy to sway given with the right words. Gilbert looked pleadingly into her eyes as he held onto her hands.

"Nobody deserves what you had to go through, Gilbert, not even a murderer!” Eliza cut in. Everyone leaning forward, desperate in their attempt to convince him that it wasn’t his fault. Even if he knew it wasn’t true. “But if this will help you move on… It’s worth it,” she said determinedly. “Alright Feliks, let’s make him beautiful.” 

Feliks grinned, striding forward with his box of fake lashes, rogues, brushes, and blushes. “I thought you’d never ask!” 

\----

Elizaveta and Roderich shared a small flat in an old abandoned building, Gothic stone detailing around all the doors and windows, steep stairs, and wide creaking floorboards that were smooth and warped with age. The building as a whole was shabby but not yet condemnation worthy. Cozy was the word Gilbert would pick, and the interior of their place reflected that as well. 

Despite the fact that their place was smaller than the large house he and Lud had shared, they made much more efficient use of the space. Every inch of wall was drilled into - shelves, paintings, multiple clocks, a world map, and another map right next to it solely dedicated to Berlin bike paths. Multiple protest signs and various flyers were also affixed to the wall, from all of the actions Elizaveta and Roderich had attended, the entire place had a visually overwhelming busy feel but Gilbert always enjoyed it. He could keep himself occupied just staring at the diverse walls. Helped him sit still as well, Elizaveta was careful and precise as she applied makeup to his face and went over the plan yet again. Despite all the contingencies built-in, she was still worried. 

“Gil, are you sure this is the best course of action?” Elizaveta asked as she painted his lips.

“Don’t worry--” Gilbert was about to reassure her before Roderich rudely interrupted him.

“Your plan could never fail. Not with all the research we’ve done. The only way it wouldn’t work is if  _ he  _ messes up and gets caught.” 

“As if I’d let that happen.” 

Gilbert rolled his eyes, after keeping still for so long his neck had grown sore and stiff, but it was worth it for seeing the warm smile tightening across Elizaveta's lips as she flicked her wrist with a thin paintbrush. “There, done.”

“Finally!” Gilbert sighed with bated breath, his face felt caked in product. Thankfully they had started the process early, the worst part of the whole ordeal being the blue eye contacts, how they stung his eyes and made him cry like a baby. Elizaveta was supportive the entire way and Gilbert was thankful for that, standing up as he stood in front of the elongated mirror to admire himself. 

“Wow, you really outdid yourself, Eliza!” Gilbert complimented as he fluttered his thickened eyelashes, pulling red cherry kissy faces in the mirror as he gently carded his hands through the realistic blond hair. “I can hardly recognize myself!” Gilbert was grinning at himself as he clicked his fingers in Roderich’s direction, who had his back turned reading a newspaper during the entire process.

“Roderich, get me my ride!” Oh, the usual, uptight, straight-ass-faced expression from Roderich was worthy of a picture - his expression shattered into one of blasphemy as he turned to face the albino man. Gilbert felt incredibly sassy, an ego he felt skyrocketing as he jutted out his hips, his curves prominent. 

Upon request, Roderich called for a cab to Elizaveta's home so Gilbert wouldn’t have to take public transportation, the dress so large and puffy he could easily bypass wearing flat shoes, which was a given considering his lack of experience in wearing high heels. Gilbert pushed up his fake bosom, giving them a bit of a wriggle before the cab arrived, pulling over at the entrance.

They all three trundled down to the doorway, the taxi already waiting outside. Both Roderich and Elizaveta pulled Gilbert in close, the three of them hugging tightly. Despite the jovial bickering between them, they wouldn’t hesitate to lay down their life for the others. Each of them had promised not to let the others go, that they would stay and fight as long as they could. Gilbert choosing to resist in this way was risky, terrifying even, but Elizaveta would support her friend all the way. Besides, he needed something to focus all the hurt on, a project to give him some sense of control again. Sneaking into a Nazi officer party to steal information, a private exclusive event for only the most elite of their ranks, was definitely a bold way of doing it, but Elizaveta knew not to underestimate the albino. He was strong enough now, he could do it. She just had to have faith. 

Elizaveta tightened the hug slightly before releasing him, holding him by the shoulders and looking into his perfectly contoured face with a smile. 

“Good luck my friend.” 

“Thanks,” Gilbert replied. 

“Here’s your fare and some extra just in case. Be careful and if it looks too risky get out of there. We’ll be following behind you shortly,” Roderich said, passing him a small pouch of coins. 

“If I don’t come back, you know what plan B is,” Gilbert said before taking the money from the stiff Austrian, placing the Deutschmarks in-between his breasts.

”Toodles!” Gilbert exclaimed before opening the cab door, slipping inside, and giving the couple a dainty wave with his slender fingers.

“I think he’s enjoying himself a little  _ too  _ much, wouldn’t you say?” Roderich said lowly as they watched the cab putter down the cobble-lined road.

“It’s fine. It’s good to see him smile again,” Elizaveta replied.

“Do you think he’s going to be okay going back into their ranks? What if he isn’t taking this seriously…” Roderich started, he couldn’t help but worry, but Elizaveta cuts the thought short.

“He is. He knows better than either of us what happens if he gets caught. But being someone else, for now, looking beautiful and desirable and  _ normal _ ; I bet it feels really nice for him.” 

Roderich smiled gently at her, yet again appreciating her keen mind, how perceptive she could be, and stepped forward to clasp her hand. “He’s not the only one looking beautiful tonight, my dear.” He raised her hand and kissed the back of it. She smiled warmly at him, nearly on the edge of a laugh. 

“Oh stop, we have to stay focused too.” She still smiled and quickly leaned forward to peck his cheek lightly. Her eyes gleamed wildly when she pulled back. “Let’s get going. We’ve got a Nazi party to crash.” 


	11. Chapter 11

That night Gilbert tossed and turned restlessly. 

His conscience was plagued by Ivan as he felt strong, broad hands grope up his thighs that left him shaking and wet, sweat rolling down his forehead as he refused to give in to the temptation of relief. It had been so long since he indulged, yet he spent all that time healing and he knew it would be a waste if he gave into Ivan’s continued influence now; his friends had done so much for him.

A soft moan escaped him as Gilbert rolled on his side, his toes curling and unfurling as his mind wandered to areas he wasn’t prepared for. 

Blue eyes, a dense smile that made Gilbert’s heart flutter, a distant memory, but it hurt so much to think about.

Brother... 

Ludwig... 

Gilbert grasped at the bedsheets, for he could only hope tomorrow that Ludwig wasn’t present inside the building for the upcoming mission. His word’s only meant so much, but what would he do within the spaces left between his brother? How would he feel? Excited, angry, overwhelmed? Did he want to scream? Gilbert couldn’t figure it out.

The man knew he could pull out of the mission at any given moment, but it was now or never. Gilbert had to face his demons of the past and completely sever their relationship once and for all if he was going to move on. Taking down the Nazis by using stolen information was one way to do that, a way to give back and help free others who had been imprisoned and tortured simply for who they were. Like he’d been liberated. 

\----

Gilbert inhaled sharply as he paid the driver the desired Deutschmarks, closing the door as he picked up the heavy, borrowed dress and made his way to the stairs up to the office building where the private party for Nazi officers was held, thankfully for him, there wasn't a lot to climb. 

Elizaveta and Roderich hadn’t discussed exactly how they expected Gilbert to get into the party in the first place, but between his disguise and his experience, Gilbert knew exactly what to say given the right moment and time. 

The night air was cool, refreshing even as he felt his heart pounding loudly in his chest the closer he approached the looming soldier that looked oddly familiar. The stitched armband prominent against his black uniform as Gilbert gave a curtsy, pulling his shoulder blades in tight to raise and expose more of his chest.

The guards in their sharp grey uniforms cooly appraised her, watching the blonde’s approach. They glanced at each other, a superior look passing between them. The closest one smiled thinly. 

“Heil Hitler!” Gilbert announced, bringing his arm high in the air. Gilbert felt bile rise in his throat as he snapped his heels together despite being covered with fabric. Gilbert hoped he would never have to do that again for as long as he lived.

The guards ignored the salute, a blatant sneer. “Sorry missy, this is a private event. Party members only.” His eyes raked over Gilbert, lingering on her plump bosom, her slender corseted waist. 

Gilbert could see them practically salivating, their mouths drooling. Deep breaths, Gilbert; no matter how tempting it was to open his legs, he couldn’t give in for all his hard work, rebuilding the walls around him had been carefully constructed. 

“Oh, I’m aware. I’ve arrived late due to looking after our children, I had to put them to bed before I could meet my husband Ludwig halfway here,” Gilbert explained, raising his voice a pitch higher as he spoke confidently to the Nazi soldier.

The man raised his eyebrows, though his eyes did not stop roaming. “I’ve never heard Officer Beilschmidt mention a wife… He must keep a pretty little thing like you under lock and key.”

“Oh, that man!” Gilbert huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “I swear, he doesn’t tell anyone because he’s worried about me. You see, Ludwig is rather fond of me and my body.” Gilbert didn’t pause, relished the way the guards both leaned in closer, watched as their pants grew tighter.

Gilbert knew he was already breaking Eliza’s and Roderich’s promise, just Ludwig’s name falling from his lips was a gamble between life and death but Gilbert couldn’t believe the soldier was buying the bullshit he was fabricating. He needed to drop a name or they would never let him in.

“He’s rather possessive of me, actually - but being so busy with work, he hasn’t been fulfilling his duties as a husband to satisfy my needs during the evening,” Gilbert said as he stepped forward, so much so that the fake chest pressed up against the man. Gilbert’s thin arm raising up to gently caress his round jaw as the guard swallowed thickly. 

Was that all it took? A sway of the hips and some kind words? Gilbert couldn’t blame these touch-starved men, could have scoffed yet held back.

The other officer coughed as his partner froze under the maiden’s gloved fingertip, getting their attention. “We certainly wouldn’t want that, Mrs. Beilschmidt; he has a duty to his country and to you to bring forth the next generation of Aryans.” 

_Mrs. Beilschmidt._

“I couldn’t agree more!” Gilbert laughed, although it sounded raw and fake, even to his own ears. “He’s always so busy, and I get so lonely at night.”

The guards turned red, flustered by how forward she was. They looked helplessly back and forth between each other and the exquisite creature posed before them, so petite and powdery, knowing they could spend the rest of their shift imagining her getting rammed by her husband if they let her through. The conflict didn’t last long. They both smiled weasel-like, gesturing past them to the ball. 

“Danke, herr!” Gilbert gleamed, giggling with excitement as the Nazi guard opened the grand doors for him, an empty hall greeting him. 

“Follow me, ma’am, your husband and the party are _this_ way.” The guard grabbed the lady by her thin waist and steered her down a hallway to the right, hands definitely lingering, lowering, grabbing more than was polite. The woman smiled at the guard, acknowledging the touch, allowing it. He grinned wider. 

Gilbert couldn’t help but flinch under the man’s greedy hands. Now that Gilbert was inside the lion's den, he had to be extra careful. The albino didn’t want to experience that trauma ever again, the torture and pain he had to endure within Ivan’s grasp - even a year later his body still hadn’t completely healed from the experience, something that shouldn't happen even to his worst enemies.

Nobody deserved what he went through.

Gilbert's collarbones stuck out sharp and narrow as he walked with his head held high, bringing the fake wig hair over his left shoulder to stroke it. It was a gesture of comfort than anything, feeling the desperate need to gag and choke on cigarette smoke. Gilbert had grown thin and weak, more susceptible to the cold. It was all Ludwig’s fault, for betraying him like that. It was a bitter, conflicted hatred - born from the deepest blood betrayal. Even if he’d been the one to lead him on, if Ludwig hadn’t turned him over to the Nazis in the first place, perhaps he might not be here right now. 

Gilbert approached the golden oak door, red massive flags draped on the side like giant sentinels, hearing the sound of voices and music muffed outside. Laughter, clinking of glasses, the sweeping harmony of a string quartet - and he wondered if it was possible that Ludwig was in there. Gilbert couldn’t help but feel nervous, he hadn’t seen Ludwig since he’d been left in the lab. His hands became sweaty as he heard the man loudly cough to gain his attention.

“Ma’am, allow me.” The guard offered the crook of his elbow, other arm braced against the door. 

“Thank you, but I think I can handle myself. After all, I am a strong, independent woman.” Gilbert challenged, giving the soldier a wink. Suddenly the guard grabbed him by the arm tight enough that it hurt, almost pulling him off balance as he dragged him closer to whisper harshly in his ear. 

“If that husband of yours isn’t up to the task, I know me and a bunch of good German men would be happy to fill you up sweet filly.” 

“Thank you, Herr, for the delightful offer; however I am a loyal woman to my husband. Hopefully, we meet again soon.” With that Gilbert left the soldier to ponder in his wake as he opened the golden oak doors. 

Gilbert immersed himself in the private party, the door closing behind him. The lavishly decorated room was full of superiors, prostitutes, and Nazi wives galore. The smell of sex quickly filled his nostrils as shrill moans filled his ears, his eyes drawn to a man and a woman like a magnet as they fucked dog style on the couch, the girl limp as she moaned the man’s name which Gilbert couldn’t quite hear that had his ears absolutely ringing.

Gilbert knew he should have turned on his heel and left that instant, abandoned the plan altogether once he realized this wasn’t a typical Nazi party but rather an orgy; the walls he tried to desperately hold together were crumbling, unable to swallow the lump in his throat as he found himself grotesquely stared at by the obscure scene.

Ivan loved that position.

The officers all in various stages of undress turned to look at the pale beauty making her way through the center of the room, her dress glowing dully beneath the chandelier lights, piles of tulle making her seem to float and sway across the floor. A few who had been lingering on the side, viewing the proceedings glanced toward one another and started to move toward the woman. She looked lost, an opportunity. 

In the enclosed space and mass of bodies, Gilbert was barely managing to breathe with how compressed and tight the corset was. Gilbert truly honored the women who suffered to wear corsets every day and night, he’d only been wearing his for an hour now! 

The smell of sweat, beer, smoke in the air made him cough, choking on a stream of air that was blown in his direction. Gilbert inhaled the toxic smoke as a second-hand hit and made his way deeper into the hall, his eyes roaming around scouting for his younger brother or any other officer to attach himself to and begin gleaning information. Everyone almost looked the same, any one of them could have been his brother, until he recognized a laugh, although strange to his ears as he approached with thin hips swaying in a manner that seemed to draw more eyes to the albino from the elongated table.

Before Gilbert could move further into the room, two Nazi officers blocked his path and smiled hungrily down at him. 

"You lost, miss? We can accompany you," one man said, his tone oily, his hand already touching the backside over the dress, sliding up to handle his cinched waist. 

Gilbert’s eyes widened, stepping back at the involuntary touch that made his fine hairs stand high.

It took a moment for him to find his voice, swallowed by fear. Keep it together. 

“N-nein. I’m here to see my husband.”

"Husband? Really?" The second officer asked, clearly not convinced. 

"I think she's just a whore who got cold feet if you ask me!" The first officer said, grinning and grabbing her harder. She wouldn't be able to get away now. "If you're shy we can go to a private room where you can take care of me and my friend here," he said in a sly voice. 

Gilbert couldn’t help the gasp that fell from his lips, his eyes frantically grazing across the room, only so much he could see with the large men intent on putting Gilbert under their thumb.

“L-L-Ludwig. Ludwig Beilschmidt. He’s my husband.”

Gilbert spoke, hadn’t realized the tremble his voice possessed. 

Perhaps Elizaveta and Roderich were right. He should have left as soon as he found out this wasn’t some _normal_ party.

"Ludwig? You mean you're actually a wife?!"

"You know better than to show up here unaccompanied… It's too easy to mistake you for a prostitute…" the two officers grumbled. He still didn't remove his hands, if anything the two of them crowded in closer. 

"I think we can take better care of you than that stick in the mud. He hasn't even noticed you yet…"

Across the room, Ludwig laughed automatically at a racist joke the officers around him had been bantering back and forth, knowing he would draw glances from them if he showed his true feelings. Everything about him had started to become rote, automatically saluting, automatically slurring other groups below them, automatically silencing any objection that could still possibly form in his mind. It was easier to just go with the flow, accept the party and their customs for what they were and not think too hard about the victims on the other end of the beating baton. He wouldn’t make it if he internally wrestled with every moral question. Just seeing the fear in Gilbert’s red eyes when he’d been left in the lab, the way he looked at him in those last moments had haunted him for months. Years. Not thinking about every terrible thing he did made it easier. He could laugh at the jokes, he could attend these horrid parties, and maintain order in his life. 

Feliciano had gotten up to refill his and Ludwig’s steins so he was across the room when the stunning young woman entered. The party was already in full swing so her late arrival already made her stand out, but in addition to that, she was absolutely striking. Pale blonde hair falling in wavy curls around her thin pearled neck, her eyes the perfect shade of blue and she wore a billowing green ball gown that made her silhouette that of a thick-based hourglass. Feli noticed several Nazis taking an interest and wondered who would get to her first…

Ludwig barely noticed when all the officers around him had fallen silent, finally coming to attention when the quiet stretched on too long. He looked around to see what they were staring at and a beautiful blonde was in the center of the room, already caught between two other officers who were ready for round two with someone new. He figured she was a prostitute who had arrived late and was about to look away from her when she met his eyes and her face lit up.

“Ludwig! There you are!” Gilbert couldn’t have sounded more shrill, as fake as his smile could be, the light reached his eyes as the albino squirmed out from between the two predatory officers and made his way onto his brother's lap, swirling a thin arm around his broad shoulders. 

It surprised Gilbert, this sudden cause of affection; he hadn’t meant for this to happen, he was supposed to follow a script and cut all ties of Ludwig. Not embrace him as a lost lover coming back from the war. His skin felt like it was burning, for Gilbert didn't remember Ludwig being this ripped; much like Ivan… 

Gilbert wasn’t anticipating seeing Ludwig at all. Yet he smiled, his heart soared and raced like a wild hummingbird being this close to his brother again, it felt almost too good to be true even if it was easier said than done to forget about the betrayal.

The betrayal.

Ludwig sat flabbergasted by the pile of pearls, perfume, and pleats that had differently nestled in his lap, her blond hair covering her face. He had no idea who she was, how she knew him.

“Who are--”

“Your wife. Are you that drunk already?” Gilbert laughed his fake chest bouncing. “I can’t believe you started without me.” Gilbert wanted nothing more than to detach himself from Ludwig, yet he found his body yearning for his touch as his skin tingled. He felt like both ends of a magnet at once, half of him being drawn in, the other half repelled. 

Ludwig didn’t move. Didn’t know what to do. He’d never touched a woman, let alone had one jump into his lap. And claiming to be his wife? The impropriety of it shocked him but he didn’t know how to react. But, knowing the sort of party he’d been invited to, having a random whore jump on him shouldn’t have been all that unexpected. She had learned his name somehow and was probably just using it to get away from someone. Ludwig sighed. Though it had never been quite like this, he wasn’t surprised. 

Poor women… Feliciano caught himself thinking again. The Nazis treated them like trash and he was sure this woman would get raped by several of the officers here and have to pretend to love it as well. He knew all about pretending… He picked up the steins and was about to head back over to Ludwig when he saw the woman make her way in that direction first, drape a slender arm over Ludwig, sit in his lap, and announce herself as his wife. 

Feliciano stopped in his tracks, spilling a splash of beer as he did it. 

Whaaaaat? Ludwig didn’t have a wife, he knew that for a fact. Sneaking quickies in the janitor closets were the extent of Ludwig’s experience, much to the chagrin of Feliciano’s begging for more. Ludwig was a massive homo, no doubt about it, but there was still something holding him back beyond just being deep in his own closet. He never let Feli any closer, held him at arm’s length and Feli had only earned a spot next to him in the first place because of insistently pestering him for friendship and being really good at making him feel good. 

And now, out of the blue, some lady shows up and he’s married suddenly? Feli felt his head spinning and couldn’t figure it out. He stood still in the back and kept watch, fretting and craning his neck to see better. 

Gilbert knew he had to say something now, the shock of a random woman falling on his lap sterilized Ludwig momentarily and he had to correct that assumption before something worse happened, it was now or never. He couldn’t have been ever more thankful to be sitting down, for he felt faint as he whispered into the shell of Ludwig’s ear, lips trembling; 

“It’s me, Gilbert… Y-your bruder.”

Ludwig felt a shock run through his entire body, electrifying for a moment of recognition, of clarity, it was as if one of his dreams had come to life. He recognized that voice. Even under everything. Was that really him? Right here, now? Truly? How could that be?

Gilbert remained still, he could have damn near pissed himself as his stomach turned upside down, clutching his thighs together; he couldn’t help but swallow the intense fear as he was met with deafening _silence_.

What was he thinking? What was he going to do?

Ludwig was in a state of shock, he could feel, smell, see this person who called herself Gilbert but didn’t look or smell or feel like him whatsoever. He never talked about his brother, he’d only really opened up to Feliciano about him because he’d been forced into that intimate position. 

Beyond that, there wasn’t anyone alive in the Nazi party who knew his brother, besides Ivan that was. He looked more closely at the thin blonde woman trembling in his arms, nearly on the verge of shoving her away and calling the guards. But then, beyond the makeup and the wig and the contacts, Ludwig saw him; Gilbert. Or, at least, a very convincing prostitute. 

He felt like the earth had cracked open under his feet and he’d fallen into a different dimension, one where his brother was alive, was a girl, and was married to him. He felt his head spinning, his heart aching, the Gilbert-shaped woman pleading with him. How was this possible? It must be a sick plan of Ivan’s, to plant this girl who resembled his brother in with the prostitutes for the party, tell her to mention Gilbert’s name to rile him up… But it still didn’t make any sense. Why would Ivan even care? He’d already hurt him in the worst possible way by letting his brother be murdered. By knowing his terrible incestuous secret. 

But still… What if it was Gilbert? Or, at least, she was willing to pretend to be Gilbert? Ludwig already had enough practice pretending with Feliciano. It should be even easier with this woman whose facial features matched Gilbert’s perfectly. 

Ludwig had to recover quickly, knowing what this meant, that if he was being too hesitant he could arouse some suspicion if this really was a part of Ivan’s tricks to catch him red-handed. He pushed through his astonishment, muted a hundred questions in his head, gripped harder at the woman, so small and frail, in his arms, and looked up to the rest of the group, every one of them leering at the two of them. 

Grins and laughter around him, Ludwig could barely focus, instead just nodding at the Gilbert-esque prostitute, letting her lead the scene. The officers around him were already talking, launching their own line of questions.

“Hey, Ludwig, how did you manage to bag such a beauty?” 

“I can see why he hasn’t brought her around before, you must be the jealous type. He wanted to keep his wife all to himself.” 

“Does your wife have a name, Ludwig?”

Before Ludwig could manage the first syllable, Gilbert managed to speak first. 

“Gilberta, Beilschmidt, it's an honor to meet your acquaintance, herr…?”

The soldier leaned in closer, plucked up her hand, and planted a long heavy kiss on her hand. Ludwig felt something turn feral inside him. He was so close he could see the blush rising on her cheeks, the way she tilted her head and batted her eyes and looked undeniably feminine. 

Would Gilbert give such sultry looks to another if it were really him? With everyone staring and drooling it put him on edge, made him clutch possessively around her hips, knuckles sinking into the yards of fabric between them.

Clearly, it was because she was a woman, a prostitute, not actually his brother. But it was easier to pretend. 

“A pleasure to meet you,” Gilbert winked, a high pitch giggle as the officer kissed his dainty hand. All Gilbert had to do was detach himself from what was going on, he'd done it before and he would do it again. 

Gilbert reached for Ludwig’s black cap this time and placed it on his head.

“What do you think, do I suit it? Hehe. Now, about what I was going to say…” Gilbert cleared his throat, his eyes drawn to Ludwig’s miraculous blue. “ You have been failing your duties as a man, Ludwig Beilschmidt. You leave me at home waiting for your cock. I know you're so dedicated to Herr Hitler, but I’m also important, remember? You need to breed me, so we can make more perfect, cute little Aryan babies.” Gilbert’s head spun, couldn’t believe what he was saying; the horrifying thing was that Ludwig was buying it. 

“I’ve been waiting for so long… I want you, _now.”_ Gilbert demanded, his body and mind detached. Just remembering the lines that made Ivan happy.

Ludwig felt his little remaining composure completely dissolve. His brother, in a dress, coveted by those around him, talking about being _bred_ by him in front of everyone. Even if she was fake, even the illusion of that scenario was a recipe for implosion. He knew he was blushing furiously, but everything else was surging down to his cock, already at half-mast succumbing to the idea this woman would play the role of his deceased brother. 

Ludwig felt a bit out of his mind, and without waiting to be polite, without following the proper society protocols, Ludwig scooped his arms under Gilbert and hefted him up easily. He was so light, even with the enormous volume of the dress he hardly weighed more than a bird. 

He’d show Ivan for fucking with him like this…

“Gentlemen, I must take care of some family affairs. Good evening.” He stepped past the circle of voyeurs, ignoring all the whistling, jeering, and calls for them to get it on in front of everyone already. Gilbert clung to him and Ludwig moved through the throng and the contact made his heart race.

“Why are you being such a stick, Ludwig? Don’t even want to share a moment with your wife at the party? Stay and fuck her here!” an officer shouted at them.

Gilbert couldn’t stop the tremble as he was held in Ludwig’s arms, how Ivan would often carry him to his desired destinations... Arms he found himself rapidly sinking into as he pulled at his tie, feeling meek as the pads of his fingers brushed along the soft material.

“It’s okay, Sugar. I don’t mind a show.” It was there that Gilbert hoped Ludwig would put him down and end this game of cat and mouse, yet deep down, he knew he was salivating at the thought of having a dick inside of him. Even if it was his brother’s. 

Ludwig couldn’t slow down, for the woman kept teasing him, breathing in his ear, gyrating slightly in his arms. Everyone in the room gave a small cheer as Ludwig gave up trying to make it out of the room and instead turned; slammed the prostitute masquerading as his brother against the nearest column, pressing hard between her legs. He hiked them up around his waist as he grabbed her thin wrists, yanked them above her head, able to hold both of her wrists under one palm.

The voyeurs and the stimulation from the rest of the room made the hazy dreamlike quality of the moment spin on, the prostitute seemed to glitter against the polished stone and Ludwig felt himself falling into her gaze. 

The woman did quite well to pass as his brother; if it weren’t for her blue eyes. 

But once he flounced up the dress and shoved himself between her legs, expecting the warmth, wetness, which was present, but _not_ expecting the thick hard dick he encountered along with the other sensations. He was stunned. Completely floored. She- no, he… He hadn’t been lying…

“Gil...?”

Ludwig’s head snapped back up to stare closely, his heart racing with a fevered thought. His brother was actually alive. Now that he knew what to look for Ludwig could easily tell this was his brother through and through. Knew what he would find when he flipped his skirt up, male beneath all the frills. 

The frothy layers created a shield around them, Ludwig let it cover them both, the junction between their legs where he groaned and grabbed hard at Gilbert’s cock. He was wearing satin underwear, lacy trim from the edges, and little ribbons across it. He could feel it without seeing, his cock heavy, full and barely held back by the straining garment. 

Ludwig couldn’t even wait to get his own cock out, the realization that his brother was actually alive and between his legs wearing lingerie, for women no less, was so sexy he had to rut against him, leaning forward to bite his powdered neck as his hips furiously smashed against Gilbert’s. He couldn’t risk him disappearing again, couldn’t risk being left behind again. From the moment Gilbert kissed him in the kitchen over two years ago, Ludwig felt like he’d been left hanging. 

They had unfinished business.

Feliciano almost dropped the drinks when he saw Ludwig respond to the woman’s touches, how her chest bounced as Ludwig slammed her against the nearest marble column. Feli gasped, his cheeks turning a deep shade of red as his curl bounced. Oh, how he wanted those strong muscular arms to sweep him up like that… He wanted to be the one held up against a column and ground against… Ludwig was _never_ that passionate with him, would use his mouth quickly, businesslike, and then push him away when he finished, making Feli take care of himself on his own. And now here he was ravishing this, this- wife person! Where did she even come from? 

Gilbert hadn’t expected Ludwig to respond so furiously, a breathless gasp escaping past his painted lips as his back smashed into something solid, leaving stars to dance around his vision as he was left dazed. He felt his hands being squeezed above his head and Gilbert couldn’t help but tense his whole body as his cock was seized in a vicious hold.

It hurt so much to be held like that again, something he longed for so desperately, yet he never gave in; all of his friend’s hard work would have come undone, all that sweat and effort put into his recovery. Uncontrollable tears pricked the corners of his eyes as Ludwig’s mouth ravaged his neck, the kisses sloppy and messy and awakening something in him that left Gilbert’s mind numb. 

However, the position was awkward, how he was left suspended in the air and supported by only his wrists and Ludwig’s weight.

“That -- _hurts_!” Gilbert whined, his voice cracking deeper than he had anticipated as he thrashed his hips wildly, bucking them up and down to escape Ludwig’s wide hips that rutted against him in an unbalanced rhythm. Gilbert couldn’t stand the position much longer, as the corset suffocated him.

He couldn’t let Ivan win!

Ludwig slowed down when he heard his brother’s voice, modulated an octave lower than expected, and heard the men around him laughing and commenting on his lack of restraint. It was hard to stop even then, hard to care with his limbs trembling and his skin electrified wherever he felt Gilbert’s touch. Slowly he lowered them both, staying close until Gilbert was cradled on his folded knee. He didn’t want to let go, but reluctantly he released Gilbert’s wrists, clutching around his waist instead, maintaining his grip. 

“Sorry… But I’m not letting you go. Never again, I promise you,” Ludwig whispered to his brother. 

Gilbert sighed in relief as he was lowered down, couldn’t stop the tremble as Ivan swore an oath, yet no matter how genuine it sounded, it still hurt. It didn’t erase Ivan’s abandonment in the boiler room that almost left him dead. Gilbert rubbed at the sore areas with both of his hands, positive there would be prominent bruises on his wrists the next day.

Gilbert knew with Ivan’s broad hands holding onto his tight waist he was trapped, simply knew if he didn’t abide by Ivan’s rules he would be punished again. Gilbert wasn’t going anywhere, no matter how tempting it was to succumb to the fear. 

Gilbert’s legs were spread, his ball sac sitting on his brother's kneecaps, trying to regain his breath as he felt the corset wasn’t doing him any favors at this moment, truly suffocating him.

“Please,” Gilbert murmured, even if there was a chance of stopping, it could very well cause suspicion - it was Gilbert’s job to last the entire night and find out as much information as possible between high Nazi superior officers. He had no choice but to fall into Ivan’s articulate hands, otherwise, the plan would be jeopardized and that was the last thing Gilbert ever wanted. His heart raced like a wild rabbit, haunted by his past as he whispered into Ivan’s ear. 

“Fuck me, I’ve missed you so…” With trembling hands, Gilbert guided Ivan’s hand under the dress, lifting his hips up so his powdered cheek rested against Ivan’s firm shoulder as he closed his eyes.

“Feel,” Gilbert insisted, for Ivan occasionally enjoyed it when Gilbert took the reins, although both knew very well who was in charge. His slender hand trailing up towards the tight tent formed in Ivan’s pants, his fingers soft and gentle as he caressed the base, before gliding to the tip and brushing his thumb over the slit.

It wasn’t surprising at all to find Ivan was already dripping with precum - but what was surprising, was Ivan’s suddenly larger girth and size, it almost made him feel undeniably excited. It’d been much too long since he was filled with purpose. 

Ludwig tensed when he felt Gilbert’s hand slide beneath the foamy waves of frills and grip his cock, his hand gentle and deliberate and far more precise than Ludwig’s attempt. He felt a twang of remorse, knowing he’d hurt Gilbert, knowing this was more what he wanted, but he couldn’t help himself. He was a man starved, suddenly presented with a feast, how could he stop himself from gorging on Gilbert’s flawless skin, his warm body tight against his, the feeling of their cocks sliding? 

Still, he had to try. He couldn’t risk them getting caught. He couldn’t stop, but he could perhaps control himself. Chest heaving he trailed a hand down and joined Gilbert beneath the dress, handling his cock more reverently, more like a fine instrument than a crude tool. Drawing him up and down, matching his pace and tension on his own cock. Gilbert set the lead and Ludwig followed, his hips giving tiny little jerks as Gilbert continued to caress him. 

Soon the position felt too stifled and Ludwig rose again, carrying Gilbert to a nearby couch, another couple of Nazis scooting over to make room, and settled them on the couch together. Their freed cocks touched beneath the dress as Gilbert melted in Ludwig’s lap. Ludwig felt the tension edge back, more comfortable now, more confident with Gilbert showing him what to do, knowing he wasn’t going to turn into smoke and disappear. He let one hand wander, rubbing over hips, thighs, ass, his other hand palmed at their combined girth, holding the two of them together in one hand. After a moment he held Gilbert’s cock steady, marveled at how he was larger than his older brother in all sorts of ways, and slowly began to roll his hips up, his cock grinding over Gilbert’s as he rose and fell in Ludwig’s lap. Ludwig looked up at his face, marveled at what he saw there. Gilbert was _feeling_ it. 

Gilbert let out a breathless moan as Ivan began to move his hand in a steady motion, nothing too intense- but enough to feel really good as the albino mouthed at Ivan’s neck, pulling at the taut skin with his teeth before rolling his tongue over to soothe it. 

Why had he held back for so long? 

“Sit back a bit,” Gilbert whispered in Ivan’s ear, his hips rolling in a deep and slow roll as they held their cocks together. Gilbert slid down to the polished floor between Ivan’s legs, his dainty hand held the base, fondling his sac as Gilbert licked his lips in preparation to swallow him whole.

“Be patient. I know how you like to control. But let’s show them how well you’ve trained me,” Gilbert said, the blood rushing to the high tips of his ears as he brought Ivan’s cock to his mouth - trying not to think too much about the size or girth, for he was way too out of practice, yet this was what he was made for.

Nobody better than him could ever make Ivan feel so high.

He curled his lips around teeth to protect the sensitive skin - a technique he had learned quickly with Ivan, if he used his teeth, a blow to the jaw would stun Gilbert; or worse the electric stick that was meant for livestock. Threatened by needles as he was forced to do the process all over again. By the end of his training, Gilbert had the blowjob skills of an experienced whore and felt a strange buzzing excitement to put his knowledge into practice again.

Gilbert licked the red engorged tip, feeling him throb underneath his soft tongue as the slit beaded with pearls of precum, which Gilbert eagerly lapped at like a thirsty dog, humming softly as he began to bob his head up and down in a steady rhythm.

Feliciano stared wide-eyed as the prostitute went to her knees between Ludwig’s legs, giving him a blowjob that had him shaking. And, oh, Dio mio, Ludwig’s face! He was really into it, staring down at the cocksucking woman like she was some kind of lost treasure or something. He never looked at him like that when he sucked him off… 

Something was bothering Feliciano. It just didn’t make sense! Ludwig made no secret to him about not being interested in women and it had taken Feliciano weeks to break through enough to even give him a blowjob and suddenly this woman is there… 

Underneath his dress, Gilbert was rubbing his hand up and down on his hard cock as his mouth was occupied. His thighs shook as he could feel the tip become wet with precum, exhaling heavily through his nose as he slowly pushed himself down, the familiar feeling of his mouth being stretched to the brink intoxicating.

More, _more_.

Ludwig could feel the heat encase him, watch those eyes flicker up to meet his, and the pure eroticism of his cock entering his mouth like that was almost enough to unravel him. He let out a genuine gasp, shocked at the feeling of Gilbert lapping his tongue enthusiastically, sucking him into his mouth until his lips stretched wide, and he could feel the pulsing in the back of his throat. 

How was he this good? Ludwig wondered hazily. Instead, he focused on the way his dick was getting thoroughly sucked by his older brother, didn’t try to think about how he learned it all. That was easy enough to do once Gilbert started humming and bobbing his head. Ludwig completely forgot himself and gripped his fists into the blonde hair, immediately remembering it was a wig as he felt it shift. Ludwig quickly released him, looking to make sure it still looked in place, that no one had noticed the movement. 

All around them the party continued to spin on, other couples had started up again throughout the room, the quartet picked up a faster, more aggressive tune - glissando, accelerando, and they were off in a flurry of rising triplets, matching the energy of the guests. Smoke from cigarettes and cigars hung and wreathed in the air, beer bubbled in glasses scattered across the room, and for the first time, Ludwig understood the beauty of doing lewd acts in such an environment. These parties had been insufferable before, but with his brother kneeled between his legs, cock distending the shape of his painted lips, his blushed cheeks, as he worked himself over Ludwig’s girth, he finally understood the appeal. It was a time to show up and show off, and he finally had the only one he’d ever desired before here to do it with. 

He grabbed Gilbert by the back of the neck, cupping his head into place, his other hand rested on his shoulder, tracing small circles on the collarbone under his thumb. He wanted to thrust up into Gilbert’s skilled mouth but held himself taut, let him set the pattern, and lead them forward. 

"Mmmm…" Gilbert moaned around the hard tip, his head coming up and down in a feverish tempo that would be sure to drive Ivan wild. Gilbert had forgotten how big Ivan truly was, making sure to coat Ivan’s thick cock with saliva, the tip of his nose brushing against Ivan’s pubic hairs as he gorged himself as if feasting, starved for sex. 

The thick head stabbing the back of his throat triggered his gag reflex. It was a painful reminder of what he was, why he was doing this - a choking noise escaped him every time the bulb of Ivan’s cockhead pressed against the back of his throat as he squeezed his eyes tight. 

Focus, just focus on breathing. 

Ludwig felt Gilbert working harder, faster, the corners of his mouth leaked, everything was wet and slippery, and sounds coming from his wanton slurping were unlike anything Ludwig had heard before. He was being intentionally sloppy Ludwig decided, not sure why that made yet another spike of desire shoot through his dick, right as those lips slid down to his root. He wanted the moment to last, he wanted to move faster, wanted to say Gilbert’s name, wanted him to remain unknown, a private secret that only he knew. The tension and the conflict were rising inside him and it was all he could do to remain still, floating over the surface of the sensation. 

Gilbert released Ivan’s cock with a wet pop, drawing in short breaths as he held onto his brother's knees to help him stand and gain some balance, he was still in control. Gilbert could feel eyes burning in the back of his head, but he forced himself to remain focused on Ivan. Sweet, demanding Ivan. Gilbert was used to putting on a show for his Daddy, it was the one thing he was good at. 

“You ready, big boy?” While on the floor Gilbert had discarded his panties, left to pool at his feet as he straddled Ivan, his chest rising and falling as he felt Ivan’s hard cock press against his hole, twitching with anticipation as he steadied himself on Ivan’s broad shoulders.

He was terrified, for it had been much too long since he was filled, he hadn’t been keeping up with his training, there was no prep for a party like this, yet Gilbert knew it still had to be done. 

There was no other way out. There was only forward. 

Oh, oh… They’re really-? Feliciano couldn’t believe what he was seeing as the blonde woman climbed into Ludwig’s lap and began grinding against him. They were going to go all the way?!

Gilbert straightened his back, Ivan had trouble hiding his enjoyment -- but Gilbert couldn’t blame him. The only blame was for Gilbert existing. 

Exhaling Gilbert slowly sat down, the tip usually the hardest part - but it was best to go fast rather than slow, didn’t have to feel that painful slow, and itching burn. Gilbert grasped desperately on Ivan’s lab coat as he slid down to the brim, ass tight from the lack of use. A high pitched moan left his smudged lips as he felt sweat drip down the arch of his back, his thighs shaking as he sat balls deep. It hurt, sitting on him not even having oil or foreplay, but he knew it could be so much worse. This ache, this pain was a privilege. 

Gilbert didn’t give himself time to recover, moving his hips upward to sit back down.

Ludwig was shocked at how quickly Gilbert had moved. Knew this was how men fucked each other, Feli had been doing this to him for months, but the feeling of him just sitting on his dick like that, taking him fully in one groaning rush, was so intense he nearly climaxed right there. Gilbert was incredibly tight, so deliciously hot and wet inside, soft and gripping and sweet. When his brother rolled his hips up, Ludwig felt too close and grabbed him once he sank back down, holding him tightly in place while the excitement settled back to a manageable level. 

Ludwig held Gilbert tight, not letting him move again, just reveling in the feeling of his cock throbbing inside his waif of a brother. He felt a growl rumbling in his chest, something instinctual, a satisfied claim that he’d imagined for years. He’d wanted Gilbert’s ass for so long, now that it was hugging his dick he couldn’t even speak. It felt like a transcendental moment, squeezing the staleness out of him as it felt completely normal for them to do this. Why had he waited so long? They could have been this close the entire time. 

The moment passed and Ludwig let him loose. 

“Please, Gil…” Ludwig didn’t know exactly what he was pleading for, hoping that Gil would lead him here too but still careful to use the neutral abbreviation. 

“Don’t worry, Daddy.” Gilbert soothed as he leaned forward to kiss Ivan on the lips, softly biting his plump lower lip as he pushed himself up and down, up and down. Gilbert could only go on for so long by himself, his lower body became heavy as his cock throbbed high against his taut, flat stomach underneath the dress. 

If Ivan was paying enough attention, he would notice the squirming as the fabric was rubbing the tip raw. 

Ludwig frowned to himself. _Daddy?_ That certainly wasn’t something he expected from Gilbert but figured it was part of the prostitute act. The entire scene was strange and unexpected and dreamlike. Even after confirming it was his long-lost brother he felt like he might vanish again as soon as they lost contact.

His jaw ached as he looped his arms around Ivan’s broad shoulders, hiding his face in the crook of his neck as he moaned hotly in the shell of his ear, breathless and feverish as he worked his torso - it was difficult to go fast, but there was a steady and slow rhythm Gilbert found himself enjoying, exhaling as he could feel Ivan’s dick go in and out. It had never felt so good, oh; how Gilbert had missed this feeling. Ivan was right; he was worthless. This was all he was ever good for.

Ludwig let Gilbert set the pace, let himself be drawn into it. The insistent lips against his, biting him softly felt otherworldly, and when Gilbert draped himself over Lud’s shoulders and panted right in his ear Ludwig felt the noise stoking something in him and he wanted more. He kept the contact up and helped lift the albino up and down, his dick a steady reaming center between them. 

Both of them moved in tandem now, Gilbert was moaning and Ludwig heard himself grunting on each inrush. He used his hips to lift them both, held him up where he wanted, and then slowly drew out with Gilbert still hanging bereft in the air. 

“ _J-ja_ ” Gilbert whimpered as he felt Ivan starting to move his hips, his chest rising and falling rapidly - Gilbert couldn’t hold himself back anymore as he brought his hand back under the poofy dress, grasping the base of his cock as he began to move his hand up and down. Ivan seemed too focused on his raging hard-on, intoxicated by Gilbert’s ass. It was satisfying to know he was missed just as much. 

Next to him, Feliciano heard another officer comment with a laugh. 

“It’s about time. Been wondering when we were gonna see him nail a bitch. I was almost beginning to question him as a man but clearly, he’s just passionate about that wife of his.” 

The others around him laughed and responded and the conversation went on without Feli. He was deep in thought, suddenly seeing the genius of Ludwig’s plan. Stage a big dramatic fake scene in front of everyone with a hired prostitute to act as his “wife”, cement himself as a strong straight male and that would stop their questioning for good. Then, after this, no one would find it suspicious when they spent time together, after all, Ludwig was a “married” man. 

Feliciano smiled, feeling that familiar warmth in his chest whenever he thought of his tall handsome German. Ludwig was a tough nut to crack, but he knew how to read between the lines. Ludwig was doing this for him, for both of them. He wished he would have gotten some heads up but Ludwig being the strong and silent type who let his actions speak for themselves was what Feli found so attractive about him in the first place. This was just another part of that dynamic. 

Ludwig let his hip piston up in a flurry, Gilbert’s whimper spurring him on and seemed to melt in his hold; Ludwig letting his hip flex and bury himself over and over as Gilbert hung there, gasping for dear breath. 

“Gil- Gil- … Oh, yes…”

Gilbert withered as he could feel an electrifying burst of heat go through his very core, a sharp moan escaping past his lips as his ass tightened - the climax was sudden and breathtaking as his body grew rigid and hard, tense as he released a sob like a cry as a string of cum ejaculated right into the fabric of his dress, mind swirling as he could feel himself slow down, coming to a halt as he leaned on Ivan’s chest for support.

Ludwig felt Gilbert’s orgasm as he clenched down tightly on his cock, watched his eyes flutter and his hips stutter, hand nursing a thick wet mess beneath the dress. Ludwig fell back to the couch as the climax rocked through him, pulled him in close to hold him against him, still rigid inside him, but momentarily still, holding Gil as he trembled and shuddered and came down from the high... 

Ludwig could feel himself twitching, muscles shaking, his cock a raw red thing that demanded movement. The men around him cheered as they watched his wife cum and he knew what was now expected of him. Some men indulged their wives, played with them, and pampered them, but most men in the party saw that as a frivolous bonus. Their real purpose for being there was to receive. The fact that Gil got off and everyone saw it meant he had to make up for that sweetness with a swift finish himself. 

Ludwig was in complete agreement with the party line for once.

Gilbert fell limp and heavy on Ivan as he felt completely and utterly relaxed, satisfied as he tried to catch his breath and bearings. Gilbert could still feel Ludwig’s raging cock pulsating in his ass, a sharp reminder that the main course was yet to come, but Gilbert rested his cheek on Ivan’s shoulder, ignoring the cheers from those who had watched as his eyelids fluttered open and closed, fully sheathed to the hilt around Ivan’s cock, he felt so full. So full.

Ludwig moved quickly once the cheering died down. Still gripping Gilbert’s hips, he lifted him once again and in one movement slung him over the cushioned back of the couch, watching the way his fake curls fell, dress puffing up around him like a slow-motion explosion. His dick was still connected, he’d made sure of that, simply rotating Gilbert on the spit as he flipped him, and once in position, Ludwig knew he couldn’t hold back any longer. 

“Uaah--” Gilbert gasped as the world was suddenly turned upside down. Ivan was squeezing his hips - so much so Gilbert was sure he was going to bruise the next day. However, Gilbert couldn’t have loved it any more. Ivan was marking him, owning his treasure, taking him back within his possession. 

Gilbert shuddered as he felt himself twist on Ivan’s cock, somehow still connected as he felt Ivan’s secure and heavy weight against him, bracing himself as he gripped onto a cushioned pillow and he shamelessly hung his head low, staring at the floor as he felt his cock become flaccid, Ivan still deep within him - anytime he tried to move his legs, he felt it. Just having come to his climax Gilbert was still sensitive, but he’d been trained to continue to soldier despite how tired he was physically. 

Ivan had taught him that. The soldiers had reinforced it.

Ludwig felt the last of his patience evaporate as the quiet moment of transition ended and just like that he gave in to his instincts. From the moment he’d recognized Gilbert this had been inevitable, his brother bent over taking his cock like he was made for it. Ludwig lunged as he began thrusting in deep, hard, and fast. A primal current ran through him sending his hips moving, hands grabbing at Gilbert’s neck to anchor him, other hand using his sharp hip bone as a handle to hoist him up closer. 

Drawing the stein to his lips Feliciano gulped down several long swigs, finally feeling the festive mood, and watched closely as Ludwig flipped the lady around and began ramming her against the back of the couch with such force the entire piece of furniture rocked beneath his thrusts. 

Instead of being jealous and confused, Feliciano was only pleasantly turned on. The lady had turned out to be quite the appetizer and preview actually! Feliciano was so proud of Ludwig for being able to do it… Getting it up to fuck a woman, putting on such a performance, the acting was so believable. He wouldn’t have been able to pull that off.

“I’m going to breed you like you asked for, wife,” Ludwig said, loud enough so the others sitting closest to him could hear and they chuckled, impressed at the ferocity of Ludwig. No one had seen him interact with any of the women and it was no wonder why. He saved all his passion for the poor lady being rammed over the couch, tossed against the cushions like a ragdoll. 

No amount of time could be given to GIlbert to prepare for what was going to happen. He moaned as Ivan began thrusting his hips in a violent, feverish pattern that had his body bouncing with every moment, moans and groans filling his ears -- it was as if they were alone, how loud Gilbert was being as he tried to get a hold of himself, didn't hold back the painful pleasure Ivan was giving him. He was completely at Ivan’s will, as it always had been.

“D-Danke, herr! Danke, bitte! B-b-bitte, fill me up, bitte!” Gilbert couldn’t even hear his own voice anymore as he hysterically thanked Ivan, for putting him in his place. His body and mind trained to beg and grovel when he needed mercy. It wasn’t a safe word, that had never existed with Ivan, but sometimes begging helped.

Ludwig heard Gilbert’s begging, felt the words surge right through him and he roared as he redoubled his pace, using both hands to hold him tight against the cushions, pushed all the way up now so he dangled over the back, just his plush ass on the very crest of the couch. It was the perfect angle and he watched exhilarated and frenzied as his cock plunged in again and again and again, the motion blurred from how fast he pumped. He was fit, beyond disciplined, and he knew he could keep the pace up for a long time if that’s what Gilbert really wanted. 

Gilbert was ready to brace for mercy, but it didn't deliver as Gilbert arched his back deep, huffing and puffing with each powerful thrust. His body bounced violently, his teeth clamping down on the couch as if to silence his cries, his cock twitching with life as Gilbert submitted himself to ecstasy, drooling. 

“Danke, oh! _Oh,_ danke! Please --- f-fill me with y-your amazing s-seed, I need it, I-I want it, now! I’m so _wet_ for you!” Gilbert cried, could feel the familiar burst of cum spurt from his cock as he felt like he was legitimately pissing himself, dazed as his body tried to get a grasp of reality.

Ludwig heard the perverse begging, could scarcely believe what his brother was saying, and he let himself finally ramp up to the crest he’d been holding back from, surging toward the pleasure of claiming his brother, finally. His orgasm rocketed up and he slammed Gilbert hard against the couch, crushing him there as his thighs shook and his release spurted out - thick and heavy with years of pining. Ludwig emptied himself completely, giving Gilbert a few more wet thrusts as his ass wrung every drop out of him. He groaned in satisfaction and suddenly took notice that the entire party had stopped to stare at them, more than a few party members raising their steins to Ludwig and his lovely wife still crumpled over the back of the couch, completely wrecked from the strength of his release. A fine example of a man. She couldn’t complain now, he’d performed his husband duties in front of everyone. 

Ludwig felt his dick softening, pulled its heavy limp weight from Gilbert’s body, and pulled him back over the couch to his side so he was upright once again, settling him in his lap once again. He reached up to lift his bowed head, stroke his cheek but stopped when he saw the stricken expression on his brother’s face. He leaned forward and whispered in Gilbert’s ear. 

“Are you alright, brother?”

…Brother?

Gilbert’s wires short-circuited as he felt the world right itself, he was sitting in Ludwig’s lap now, he wasn’t with _Ivan_ \- Gilbert needed fresh air, stumbling out of Ludwig’s- _Ludwig’s_ grasp as he wobbled up to stand, his legs feeling like jelly - he didn’t stop, couldn’t stop and continued anywhere, somewhere that wasn’t here. 

What did he just do!?

The albino felt Ludwig’s cum dribble down his thighs, a wet reminder, a wet, awful reminder as Gilbert stumbled upon the women's toilets, wrenching the door open as it slammed shut.

Gilbert collapsed on his knees as he hung himself over the toilet bowl, hurling violently as vomit and acid spewed from his mouth, moaning in distress as he rested his head against the cool surface. 

_What the fuck had he done?_

Ludwig watched in alarm as Gilbert struggled up, got away from him, and swayed in the room before spinning toward the bathroom, stepping over people and around chairs to get out. Ludwig’s eyes followed him as he entered the lady’s room but he wasn’t worried; he already knew there were no exits on that side of the building, and slowly stood up to follow. 

Feliciano’s eyebrows raised, he could see their lips moving - but couldn’t hear anything from here. Feliciano was impressed by the display and soon after the woman was able to get up and stumble away. The Italian smiled and started to walk over toward his German friend again, about to congratulate Ludwig on his genius plan, when the man got up and followed the lady out of the room. 

Huh… Maybe he still needed to pay her? Feliciano shrugged and settled into the spot they’d just vacated, still warm from the friction of their fucking. He’d let Ludwig sort out the details and he’d be here waiting for him when he got back. 

Feliciano would always be waiting for him. 

As Ludwig stepped out of the room several other Nazis slapped his back and congratulated him on a worthy performance, how he’d been holding out on all of them, that his wife had been so thoroughly fucked she couldn’t stand straight. None of them would have guessed he’d just fucked his brother. He ignored them, nodded mutely to just get through. All he cared about was getting his brother in his sight again. He stalked toward the hallway and the restrooms, pausing in front of the women’s door for only a second before letting himself in. 

”There you are,” Ludwig said quietly, out of breath.

Gilbert was crumpled on the floor by the toilet, his dress wrinkled and make-up smeared as he looked up at Ludwig. He was upset and on the verge of tears and Ludwig wondered what could have possibly caused it. 

In the toilet itself floated a slick of sick, it looked mostly like bile. He walked over and flushed it, standing tall over Gilbert who hadn’t tried to rise from the floor. 

“I always knew you would come back to me.”

Gilbert's body spun like a startled rabbit as Ludwig stood above the open door, eyes contracting to thin pin needles. 

“W-what?” 

“You escaped from the camp and infiltrated this party just to see me… Gilbert, you know you always could have come home…”

“How dare you say that!? When you’re the one who left me there!” Gilbert hollered, struggling to stand as he put his hands on the toilet seat, pushing himself up.

“That was for your own good, I’m trying to save you, don’t you see that? You can’t make it in this system without my protection -”

“I don’t _want_ to make it in the system. I want to tear it down!”

“Gilbert, please, you should know by now that’s not going to happen. The resistance is just an excuse because you wanted to get close to me right? I know you do. You came in here as my _wife_. I know you want it just as much as I do. Now, come on. I want to get you home quickly -” 

Gilbert shook, a case of fight or flight as he saw the hand coming near him, reaching for him. He opened his mouth and snapped down hard on Ludwig’s fingers, hearing them crunch in his ears as he quickly stood up, shoving Ludwig as he lunged for the exit, he could taste copper in his mouth, his heart raced widely, frantically.

Why was the plan going all wrong? This wasn’t supposed to happen! 

Ludwig was shocked by the bite, completely unexpected and Gilbert was able to rise up and get past him as he reeled back. That was as far as he got though, a sudden panic gripping Ludwig as he realized his brother was trying to _get away_ from him. It wasn’t right, there had to be a mistake. What had happened? When they were so close to reconnecting? He couldn’t let him leave, not with so many unanswered questions. He turned and grabbed Gilbert by the wrist as he pushed by, pulling him back and wrapping his broad arms around him. He could feel his brother struggling, he was so small and weak there was no chance. 

It was only when he began to shout, the beginning edge of a scream bubbling up, that Ludwig locked his bicep around Gilbert’s throat, pushing the back of his skull forward with his other hand as he squeezed his elbow tight until he went silent and slack after a few seconds of hard pressure.

Gilbert's hand brushed the surface of the doorknob before he blacked out, collapsing heavily on the floor in a heap of fabric and frills as he laid unconscious, his eyes going cross-eyed as he could see his brother's outline before plummeting into darkness.

\----

The exterior guards looked up in surprise as the doors opened and Ludwig strode out, his wife hung limp in his arms. It was still early in the night, these high officer orgies tended to last until dawn, still, they were impressed to see him taking his leave with his wife fucked into a coma. 

“Gave it to her so hard she passed out, eh?” One of the guards asked, chuckling.

Ludwig smiled slightly, looking satisfied as he walked past them. 

“Yes. It was a long time coming for her.” 

Roderich and Elizaveta were waiting outside the parliament building for Gilbert, as they had decided to meet at the corner of the building at a designated time. 12 pm sharp.

Elizaveta stood anxiously as she waited for Gilbert, glancing at Roderich’s outstretched arm as the watch ticked by. There was movement and a murmur of voices, one Elizaveta and Roderich recognized as they glanced towards each other anxiously.

“It’s already been half an hour.”

“I told _you_ he wasn’t ready for it!” Elizaveta hissed sharply in his ear.

Roderich didn’t want to admit defeat, but perhaps, the Hungarian girl was right. 

“Look, we have to--- ssh, shh.” 

There was some laughter before footsteps began to approach the sharp corner a good few meters away from the building. Elizaveta and Roderich hid within the darkness, keeping their heads low and their eyes were drawn to the Nazi walking down the cobblestone path with…

“G-Gilbert?”

Roderich wasn’t sure who said his name, but Elizaveta was the first to react and spring into action. Roderich almost tripped himself up and before he could grab her dress it was too late. 

Elizaveta squared up to the blond man, the Austrian striding close to her hip. They had both promised to each other they would never let another Nazi or Ludwig hold onto Gilbert ever again, no human should have ever gone through that.

“Ludwig,” Roderich spat with venom, nose snarled and curled.

“Give us back Gilbert, Ludwig.”

“What are you doing here? This is a secure Nazi officer residence, you don’t have authority to be here, let alone be free walking around.” Ludwig wasn’t surprised to see Roderich or Elizaveta. That explained where Gilbert had been since escaping, but that didn’t mean he was giving up and rolling over. He would do anything to protect Gilbert. Letting him go back with them was a terrible mistake and he wouldn’t let it happen. 

“Look, I’m the one taking care of him now. Just go home and I won’t say anything. Pretend you were never here and I will too.”

“Pretend? Ludwig, we can’t _pretend._ This isn’t childish make-believe, it’s war.” Roderich didn’t seem to be holding his opinion back on the matter either. “We are not afraid of you, Ludwig. We will have our justice, Gilbert doesn’t deserve you. You put him through _hell_. You have no idea what he’s been through.”

Elizaveta nodded, the couple taking a step forward.

“Please, Ludwig, if you had a heart, you would let Gilbert go back to us, where he belongs.”

“Where he belongs…? He’s exactly where he belongs. With me. His only family. What do you have that I don’t? Nothing. I care about him more than you. I sacrificed my life for the Nazis for him. To save him, what have you done?!” 

“What have _we_ done!? If it weren’t for _us_ Gilbert would have been left for dead! We looked after him, fed him, cleaned him, nourished him back to health for the past year while you’ve been what?! Oh, murdering the innocent? Jewish, gay, the disabled, and weak? Rounding them up in pens to be shot in the back of the head? How dare you ask us what we have done, what have _you_ done!?” Roderich balled his hands into tight fists, his body tense and knuckles white.

Elizaveta had never seen the Austrian so physically distraught, never one to pick for a fight. 

Ludwig was stiff. He slowly put Gilbert into the car, let him rest while he dealt with the toxic influences. Ludwig turned back and squared up, letting his hulking mass be the intimidating force he’d learned it could be over the years. 

“I appreciate you taking care of my brother when I didn’t know where he was. Now that he’s back with me, the best thing you can do is turn around and leave. I’m going to take care of him from now on.” 

“You’re not taking him anywhere, scum!” Roderich whipped out a revolver rounded with six bullets inside, the safety latch unhinged.

Roderich briefly gestured to the Hungarian girl to stay behind him aiming for Ludwig’s skull. “If you don’t give him back, I will pull the trigger. I’ve done it before and I’ll happily do it again with the number of innocent people you kill every single goddamn day.”

Ludwig grinned, unafraid. He knew Roderich would kill him if he had the chance, but he also knew he wouldn’t mess things up for Gilbert. For himself, Elizaveta or the movement. The moment one of them moved it would be over. 

Instead, Ludwig held his arms up, kept his hands empty, and walked closer. 

“My friends, please, I have been missing my brother for over two years now. I thought he was dead, I want to make it up to him. For the sake of our friendship, can’t you let him go with me tonight?” 

“ _Friends_? Oh no, Ludwig. We’re enemies. We’re done! _Finished_! Gilbert doesn’t need you, he never did, he’s completely disowned you!” Roderich held his breath as he pulled the trigger.

Ludwig didn’t trust Roderich, never had really, and so he was already prepared to dodge when the pistol went off. He leaped to the side as the ammunition went flying past him. He knew the sound would draw the guards not far up the path. 

Ludwig rushed forward and tried to grab the revolver.

Roderich yanked back but was unable to fire again. While they grappled with each other, Elizaveta ran towards the car and opened the door, trying to pull Gilbert out herself through the driver’s side. Ludwig growled and twisted Roderich around, slamming him up against the car.

Elizaveta pulled desperately on Gilbert’s wrist, shifting him closer to freedom but she could hear the pounding of leather military boots on stone, a group of guards stomping down the path to see what the disturbance was. 

Roderich grunted loudly as he was smashed against the vehicle, his glasses riding awkwardly up his nose as he felt panic surge through him, knew of the awful tales first hand what they would do to people like him, all because of his religion.

Roderich wasn’t going to give up so easily, his arm managed to briefly escape as he elbowed Ludwig in the nose, ducking under his arms in an attempt to escape.

“Run, Elizaveta!”

Ludwig shook his head from the blow, dizzy and losing his grip. He staggered back holding his nose with one hand. He swung a punch at Roderich who dodged it, stooping down as Ludwig’s fist flew past. But Ludwig intended it and brought his knee up and caught him in the middle instead, knocking the wind out of him. As Roderich crumpled down to clutch his stomach, Ludwig finally let go of his trigger hand, letting the gun clatter uselessly to the cobblestones as Roderich collapsed. 

Elizaveta had managed to get Gilbert out, trying to support his unconscious weight as she pulled him from the car. The soldiers were coming and Ludwig was stalking around to her side. 

“Eliza put him down… He’s not going with you.” 

“If you dare touch me, I will confess to those soldiers this woman is not a woman, but a man in a dress!” Elizaveta knew she really couldn’t do that, wouldn’t have the heart to, but her voice seemed believable enough. 

Roderich crawled towards the advancing Ludwig, grasping onto his sleek black boots as if to trip him up, blood gushing from the open bullet wound as he felt himself fading in and out of consciousness. 

“Eliza, run! Just -- leave him! _Survive_!”

Despite Roderich’s frantic calling, Elizaveta remained still; be it from fear or stubbornness, she didn’t back down and held herself up, head high as she grasped onto Gilbert’s wig, a silent threat.

Ludwig paused, uncertain if she would actually do it or not. He outranked the guards who were coming, he could order them quiet and never mention it, but he knew how even minuscule rumors were deadly in this government. Just one of them whispering about the crossdresser Ludwig had for a wife could get them both sent away with a pink triangle or shot point-blank. 

“I won’t touch you. But you are going to put Gilbert down or else Roderich will never play the piano again.” Ludwig kicked off Roderich’s hands who had been holding back his boots and stepped on the back of his neck instead, pinning the Austrian to the ground. The man struggled and gurgled on the ground under the pressure and Ludwig calmly switched to standing on one of his hands to let him breathe again. 

Roderich groaned at the weight on his hand.

“So, Eliza, what do you think? We can stand here like this until the guards arrive and take all three of you away or you can set down my brother and I’ll let you both go. What will it be?” 

“Three of us? Don’t you mean four? I’m sure they would question you if your brother was classified as dead, why did he come back, and if you knew, why didn't you alert them? But insisted on allowing Gilbert to dress as a woman?” Elizaveta pinched her lips, the concern for her Austrian friend for not being able to play the piano ever again was almost too much, an unbearable thought. 

Roderich had to understand, they had promised to themselves to never let Gilbert fall in their hands again -- they had sworn to each other! Sacrifices had to be made -- Roderich had to know that, her eyes flashing as she darted past Ludwig, frantically trying to find an alleyway to turn into, something that would leave her less exposed.

Ludwig saw her turn to leave, Gilbert dragged along next to her and was surprised how willing she was to let Roderich get hurt in order to take Gilbert. Yet he wasn’t about to let her get away. It only took only a second of hesitation before he pulled out his own firearm and raised it, taking careful aim. 

Roderich saw the gunmetal glint against the street lamps as Ludwig raised his arm and panicked. He shouted, tried to set Ludwig off-balance, ignoring the way his hand popped and flared with pain.

“RUN!” 

His shout was drowned out by the buck of the gun as Ludwig pulled the trigger. 

Elizaveta should have seen it coming, but the pain that came next was difficult to compare, she felt as the bullet went through her arm, exiting out the other side as a high pitched cry left her lips, Gilbert felt unbearable to hold as she tripped on a cobblestone and collapsed, Gilbert underneath her as she held onto her throbbing arm, blood instantly soaking up into her pores and dress. She curled over Gilbert in a protective ball, tears streaming down her face.

Roderich clawed and threw himself against Ludwig like a rabid dog, completely out of his mind when he saw Elizaveta jerk and cry out as the bullet pierced her. 

How could he, how could he!? Roderich couldn’t even articulate his rage, his terror.

Ludwig kicked Roderich in the stomach again, knocking the wind out of him a second time that night and left him gasping on the ground. Ludwig walked calmly over to Elizaveta where she hovered protectively over Gilbert, blood streaming down her arm and dripping onto Gilbert’s dress.

Ludwig didn’t ask this time, he knew she wouldn’t let him go even now, and so he reached down to grip her shoulder where the blood poured and squeezed hard until she wilted with a shriek and let go of Gilbert. Ludwig grabbed Gilbert and scooped him bridal style, turning and walking back to his car without another word. 

Roderich crawled closer to Elizaveta, wheezing.

“Bastard…” Roderich spat with venom at Ludwig who walked by him as if he wasn’t even there. 

The guards were nearly upon them, passing Ludwig at the car who told them; “They are Jewish spies, make sure you don’t let them get away.” He’d let the Nazi party do the dirty work for him. 

\----

Ludwig carried his prize, his beloved, his brother, into their home. This house which he had lived in alone for two years now, driven mad by grief and loneliness and the questions that never stopped their circling. 

They could all be laid to rest now. He was home again, and Ludwig wasn’t going to give him away ever again. He closed the door behind him and was greeted by two large excited German Shepards, bounding up and sniffing at the person cradled by their master’s as Gilbert remained unconscious in his arms. 

“Down Britta, down Berlitz, it’s okay. This is Gilbert. He’s going to be living here with us now.” Ludwig explained to them, knowing they couldn’t understand what he said but he’d gotten so used to talking to them in Gilbert’s absence he didn’t notice anymore. They had been his sole companions during those lonely Nazi party years. Things would be different now. 

He carried Gilbert upstairs to the bedroom, already trembling with excitement again. He was back, he was back! He laid his brother out on his bed, gazed covetously over him, and then turned to sit and wait for his brother to wake up, never once taking his eyes off him.

It took Gilbert awhile to rouse, moaning in pain as he felt his headache thrum. Gilbert sat up, his hand threading through his thin hair as his eyes slowly fluttered open. 

“Where….?” The albino was confused, he observed his surroundings and it didn’t look like any place he knew of. His mouth felt dry like paper, although in pain; Gilbert was frightened, where the fuck was he? 

Gilbert looked down and all at once he remembered the party, the large, obscure dress… He must have passed out as soon as he hit the mattress once he met outside with Elizaveta and Roderich, this place had to be Toris’ place, yeah… “Hnng, Roderich?”

“No, brother. It’s me,” Ludwig stood up and came closer, smiling as he settled on the bed next to Gilbert. 

“...Lud.. wig…?” Gilbert tried to focus on the moving object that came closer, feeling the dip of the mattress. 

A sudden realization as Gilbert jerked, causing him to smack the back of his head on the bed frame, hissing loudly as he cupped the sore area and inhaled sharply. “Fuck, fuck! The fuck am I doin’ here?!” Gilbert whined as his head lowered to his knees, whining. 

Only then did Gilbert notice the dark stained fabric on his dress, thick with half-dried blood as his hands trembled smearing his two fingers together, examining it, his face a deathly pale. 

It clicked.

"Blood? Ludwig, what have you done?! Where's Eliza - - _Roderich?_!" 

“It's ok now… You don't have to worry about them anymore. They've been taken into custody and by now are already on their way to a political prisoners camp.”

Gilbert couldn’t believe what he was hearing. 

“Don’t worry about them, they don’t matter anymore… I carried you home brother… You’re finally here, and now we’re finally alone. I’ve missed you so much, you have no idea…” Ludwig leaned in, a hungry gleam passing through his eyes. He knew Gilbert must have missed him too… Their unfinished business. He didn’t wait to ask, didn’t hesitate, not after so many years apart. Ludwig leaned in to kiss his brother. 

It boiled Gilbert’s blood, numb with the lack of response as he was raging with heat. To think Ludwig would have sent his friends to be abolished within those horrid camps. His mind launched into a frantic frenzy of worry and concern for his best friends who had rescued him, brought him back to health, back to life. Saved him.

It was then Gilbert felt Ludwig’s lips, his nose scrunching up as sucked on Ludwig’s bottom lip he bit down into the soft skin, hard and deliberate as he pulled on Ludwig’s lips, feeling bitter iron trickle on his tongue as he refused to let go.

Ludwig yelled and pulled back, pushing Gilbert off him. His lip was bleeding, split from Gilbert’s teeth, and Ludwig was shocked by the sudden bite. Holding a hand to his lips he asked, eyes wide with confusion. 

“Gilbert, what’s wrong? Why did you-?” 

“What’s wrong? What’s wrong!?” Gilbert wished desperately he wasn’t confined in such a large blossomed dress, struggling to get up off the bed as the world spun from moving so fast.

“Oh, oh I don’t fucking know, Ludwig, how about - mmmm, I dunno…. Leaving me for fucking dead, huh?! You only had a change of heart because of what, huh? I can’t believe I’m even talking to you right now! You murdered my only _friends!_ ” Gilbert shouted, throwing the bedsheets off as he made way for the first exit, taking in his surroundings. Red flags, patriotic statues, and medals, a large portrait of Hitler above the small fireplace -- 

“The fuck is this freak of a place!?” Each passing minute sent Gilbert into a fit of anxiety, he was practically gagging for a cigarette. 

Ludwig watched with growing concern as his brother jumped up and paced frantically as if he didn’t even know where he was.

“Gilbert, you’re home. Remember? You’re back home and you’re safe now.” Ludwig stood up to come closer. Gilbert must have been more hurt than he realized… “I never meant to leave you, it was always supposed to be temporary…” Ludwig came closer, his arms open as if waiting for Gilbert to fall against him for support. He looked tipsy spinning in his heels, dress puffing around him as he paced. 

This wasn’t the home Gilbert remembered. 

“Safe, safe?! You’re mother fucking delusional!” Gilbert barked, his head swiveling around to meet Ludwig’s gaze, intense and lethal as he fondled around for the doorknob. “This place is _not_ my home! I don’t want to see your face, hear you, be anywhere but _here!_ Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to find my friends! _”_ Gilbert swung the door open, not caring for much if it damaged the wallpaper. 

How could this be their home? It was completely different, every vile resemblance of the Nazi party Gilbert wanted to rip, smash and cause violence as he staggered in his heels. 

“You’re not leaving again!” Ludwig lunged forward and grabbed Gilbert around the waist just as he got the door open, pulling him back into the room. Gilbert was struggling, fighting him, and Ludwig felt a discordant note of déjà vu. This wasn’t the first time he’d stopped Gilbert from going through a door… It would end differently though, he just had to show him.

Berlitz and Britta came bounding excitedly into the room, curious about the commotion and wanting to greet Gilbert. 

Gilbert hadn’t expected to be surrounded by dogs -- after what Romulus did to him with his trained attack dog in the boiler room he was absolutely terrified of the animals now. Gilbert flailed like a fish out of water, all he could see was their sharp teeth and loud barking as he was lifted by his waist, his feet kicking blindly as he connected with one of the beasts, a loud whimper escaping it. 

“Let me go, let me go! Murderer!” Gilbert thrashed and wrestled Ludwig for freedom, heart racing, and pacing like a frightened rabbit.

“Gilbert, calm down, Berlitz, Britta, heel!” The two large circling dogs promptly sat where they were and looked expectantly towards Ludwig. Berlitz, the one who Gilbert had managed to kick, licked his lips constantly as if worrying a sore spot. Ludwig took the struggling Gilbert and threw him on the bed again, pinning him face down there as they both panted. 

“Stop fighting me, Gilbert! I’m not going to let you go again! The safest place you can be right now is by my side. I can protect you and they can too. They’re well trained, so just stop.” Ludwig held him down by his shoulders, noticed the subtle metal zip on the back of the dress. It would be so easy to ease it down, open his back up to view… 

“Nein, I don’t need protecting, not from the likes of you! You backstabber!” Gilbert’s face was smothered in the pillow, his legs still kicking frantically behind him as he felt suddenly drained of energy, he couldn’t give in -- not now! He was already pushing his limits.

“I’m your brother, the only real family you have. Whether you like it or not. We’re connected and we always will be. No matter what either of us goes through…” Ludwig grabbed the zip, lowered it down slowly. “We will always be closer than anyone else…” One hand still holding Gilbert down, his other eased beneath the fabric, smoothing it back and running his fingers over the skin. He was surprised by the sensation of Gilbert’s back, like tracing over ridges and runnels. 

Ludwig paused to look and couldn’t stop his shock of horror when he saw the layers of scar tissue crisscrossing over his flesh. 

“Gilbert… These scars- How did this happen? Who did this to you?” Ludwig asked furious, terrified, and shocked. The scars kept going past the fabric, the more he looked, the more he felt, the more he saw. 

Hearing the zip Gilbert began to frantically flail again, trying to curl within himself at the shame burning in Ludwig’s eyes, he could feel it; he didn’t need to see it. 

“You did this, you let this happen!” 

“Nein… Nein… I would never... “ Ludwig remembered the party. Remembered how Gilbert had come to him, how he had sucked him off so expertly, how he had started the entire scene, and knew what he was doing the whole time. Even before then, Gilbert spurred him on. 

His concern turned to anger, his sympathy turned to jealousy. He wrenched Gilbert out of the ball he’d curled into, straddling his lower back as Ludwig began tearing ferociously at the dress, the zip which had become stuck. 

"Ludwig - - _stop!"_ His cries fell on deaf ears. 

Ludwig had to know, he had to see. Gilbert would show him everything eventually, what was the harm in seeing it now? The dress wasn’t cooperating. Ludwig pulled a large hunting knife from his boot and slid it up the inner seam of the dress, cutting Gilbert out of it entirely with a loud tearing sound. He wasn’t prepared for the pale thin scarred body that spilled out before him. With the number of scars, the swastikas crudely carved into his flesh, he felt a surge of something fierce and homicidal when he saw the tally marks shining in pale white scar lines across his brother's ass.

Ludwig dragged his finger over one in particular. 

“Gilbert… Is this… These scars... “ 

Gilbert was numb with tremendous fear, shell shocked by Ludwig’s brutality and sheer force, it overwhelmed him as he shivered, pools of water pouring out of his blue-tinged eyes as he grasped onto the pillow as if he was bracing a violent beating. Yet, it never came. 

“Don’t tell me… All of these marks are… From other men?” Ludwig asked, feeling something red, hot, and blinding taking over his vision. 

Ludwig didn’t know what he was doing, he felt out of control, running completely on autopilot as he finished ripping Gilbert out of the dress and stripped him fully naked. He wasn’t gentle, the urgency and rage he felt wouldn’t allow it, and when Gilbert was finally torn free of the last stocking he was curled on the bed shivering. 

"B-bitte, stop looking at me - I don't - - I can't, bitte…!" Gilbert sobbed loudly as he curled his fists into the soft fabric, his ears burning hot with embarrassment and shame. This was too sudden; terrified by the rage he could feel in Ludwig’s hands.

“How many… Gilbert, how many? Tell me!” Ludwig grabbed his shoulders and shook, his anger growing as Gilbert just curled up and continued to shake. Ludwig didn’t know what to do, what to say. He wanted to rip every man apart who had touched him, but all he had was Gilbert, their victim, before him. He had to see it all. 

“Gilbert, you have to show me. Show me every single place they touched you. I want to see everything.” 

Gilbert felt a sob escaping as he was shaken by his shoulders vigorously, hanging limp like a rag doll. "N-nein, nein!" 

Ludwig shoved him around and rolled him over by his shoulders so he laid on his back, pulling his legs down, and for the first time, he was finally able to see Gilbert completely. Gilbert cried and covered his face as he was exposed. Ludwig felt numb from what he saw. Every single rib was visible, his hip bones sharp and his arms thin. He had countless healed over cuts on his front as well, a ropey line of keloid around one nipple, his dick small and scarred, everything about him screamed torture victim.

“Gilbert… No matter what happened to you, no matter what you did or what was done to you, I’m still here and I’m never going to let anyone else hurt you. I love you.”

"N-nein, nein... Ich hasse dich! Ich hasse dich! You've never cared about me, otherwise, you wouldn't have sent me to that place!" Gilbert shouted, his feet colliding with Ludwig's strong cheekbone, his eyes burning like a raging wildfire. "Y-you-- you only thought of yourself, I don't need you in my life anymore!" 

Ludwig felt his chest breaking open down his center with those words, the guilt of sending his brother away, the results of that reflected in Gilbert’s fear, his scars, the way he fought against him so desperately. The kick to his jaw flung him back but he barely felt it compared to the pain in his chest. 

Ludwig recovered quickly and raised his arms keeping his hands open as he came closer again.

“Do yourself a fucking favor and stop lying to yourself, damn it! Now let me go!” Gilbert was hearing none of it, it’s the least what Ludwig deserved. Perhaps they should have thought through the plan a fifth time round, for Gilbert was anticipating for Ludwig to not be there. 

“No, no… Gilbert, please, I did that because I love you, don’t you see? I didn’t know what they were going to do… I would never - Gil, I only care about you! You _know_ that!” Ludwig felt desperate, angry, and scared. How could he make Gilbert understand? “ _You’re_ the one who came onto me, remember?! Both back then and again tonight. You want me just as much as I want you.”

Gilbert pinched his lip, a sore expression painted on his lips. The pain in his chest squeezed, almost hurt to breathe; “the first time was a mistake! I I-I should have never have done that. I admit that I fucked up real bad.” Gilbert squeezed his eyes.

“No, it wasn’t a fuck up. It was an invitation.”

“We’re brothers Ludwig, _brothers_! How many times do I have to say it? If this is how it’s going to be I’m disowning you! I want nothing to do with you anymore. You sick fuck!”

“That’s alright with me. Disown me, pretend we’re not family if that makes you feel better. But it doesn’t change the way I feel about you. It doesn’t change the fact that you started it twice now so I know how you truly feel deep down inside,” Ludwig replied, as calm as he could manage. “We can be together now…”

“Why don’t I do the world a fucking favor; I’m better off dead, you murdered my friends and you’re interpreting this in the wrong way.”

“No, I’m not, you’re just in denial. When I thought you were dead… I couldn’t find joy in anything, everything was grey and dull. I’m not losing you again, not after I just got you back!” Ludwig reached for Gilbert again. 

Gilbert’s eyes narrowed as he saw Ludwig come closer. 

“Stay back! Or- or I’ll bite my tongue!”

Ludwig saw the look in Gilbert’s eyes that was serious and spoke of his ability to pull off such a threat. Without another second thought, fearful that he would actually do it, Ludwig lunged forward and slapped his hand over Gilbert’s mouth, pinching his jaw open so he couldn’t bite down. He pressed his weight down on Gilbert, holding his shoulder with his other arm so he was pinned back on the bed. 

“I’m not losing you Gilbert…” Ludwig said lowly, “I love you more than I love anything else. More than our friends, more than the Nazis, more than myself. I’m not going to let you kill yourself, bite me instead if you have to, brother,” Ludwig said, letting go of his jaw and pushing his forearm to Gilbert’s mouth instead. 

Before Gilbert could chomp down on his tongue, Ludwig’s forearm was abruptly shoved into his mouth as he let out an alarming sound, jerking violently as he tried to throttle Ludwig on the side of his head, missing entirely as he pressed down his jaw, his teeth piercing the firm skin as Ludwig stood unwavering from his actions, the fuck?

“Yesss…” Ludwig hissed, feeling the bite, the tear of his skin, the way Gilbert’s eyes flared wide at him as he did it. He just needed time… He just needed to be reassured of Ludwig’s love. What better way than to show him directly? As Gilbert’s teeth sank into his arm, Ludwig shifted up and forward and let his body drag heavily up his brother’s naked torso until their pelvises were aligned. The bite felt good, just knowing it was Gilbert’s teeth in him, and Ludwig was already turned on by having him close. Pressing his forearm forcefully against Gilbert’s head so he couldn’t bite himself, couldn’t really move his head, Ludwig propped himself up just enough with this other arm to anchor and grind, let his thick erection rub impatiently at the crease of his thighs. 

“See how much I love you, Gilbert? You have to believe me… I didn’t know they were going to take you away from me, I didn’t know they were going to hurt you. But it’s fine now, alright? Everything’s okay because we’re together again… You came back to me, Gil… Ah, Gil, please… Please…” Ludwig’s hips worked fast and fast, he wanted more contact, to take his clothes off, but he also didn’t want to stop for a second to do so. It felt so good…

Gilbert felt tense with fear, but despite it, Ludwig’s cock grinding against his thigh was oddly erotic, it felt really nice, even -- but he didn’t want it. _He didn’t want it!_ Gilbert felt the tears swell up in his eyes the longer he stared at his brother, his damn, fucking brother.

Gilbert found himself biting down harder, despite how his cock began to swell with life. Gilbert began to taste liquid metal inside his mouth, completely ignoring his pelvis that screamed to be touched.

“Yes, Gilbert… That’s right… Keep biting me…” Ludwig panted. It was strange, he could barely feel it, despite the blood running down from beneath his teeth, if it felt like anything it would be euphoric. He could do this… Gilbert was confused and hurt, but he would be patient. He would show him how much he cared. He slowed down to slip a hand between their bodies and when he felt Gilbert responding to him he gave a low helpless groan. He gripped Gilbert’s cock, pumped him roughly in time with his hips.

“I knew you felt it too, Gilbert… I knew you wanted it… I’m sorry I didn’t do this sooner,” Ludwig panted. _Gott,_ he needed to get these pants off. 

Gilbert _didn’t_ want it! He inhaled sharply as Ludwig grasped his weeping cock, his jaw hurt so much from the intense pressure he was applying on Ludwig’s arm, his hands reaching for his chest. His body thrived for the attention, his thighs shaking visibly as he could feel an ancient coil, deep and intoxicating as his body flared with intense heat. He had to stop Ludwig somehow but he was enjoying it too much, enjoying Ludwig’s hands and grinding ---

What had Ivan done to him?!

Gilbert extracted his teeth from his brother’s arm, a series of moans filtering past his bloody lips as his hips rocked with abandon, no sense of rhythm, just lost in the sensation. Ludwig resembled Ivan in so many ways and it was difficult for Gilbert to sway from reality as he felt himself ejaculating, cumming violently in spurts of hot white seed as he shouted in ecstasy. 

“I-Ivan, I-Ivan!”

Ludwig felt himself go cold in that second. When Gilbert was finally responding to him, finally giving in to his desires, suddenly he mentioned that name. It seemed out of nowhere, why would he say that? But while Ludwig stressed and pondered why Gilbert had brought up his torturer when with him, he also couldn’t stop himself. Gilbert had just cum in his hand, he felt the twitch of it and the release when he let loose, and despite feeling disgusted by the imagine in Gilbert’s head, it was still _Gilbert_ so it didn’t take much to push Ludwig over from that moment. 

“Gilbert… I’m not Ivan. I’m your brother Ludwig and I’m not letting you go until you remember what we had,” Ludwig said as he leaned over and laid his heavy body across Gilbert’s, pushing him into the mattress and not giving him a chance to rise. Ludwig bucked forcefully against Gilbert, letting himself go now that Gilbert had found his release. It didn’t take much more and Ludwig gave a ragged cry as he came in his own pants, still keyed up from when he saw Gilbert the first time all those years ago. Him moaning Ivan’s name was just brainwashing. It had to be. 

“Ivan’s not here, just me brother…” Ludwig grunted in his ear, feeling the throb of his release, the way Gilbert trembled against him. His arm was streaming blood from Gilbert’s teeth. He pulled his arm back and could acknowledge it hurt, but beyond that, he felt nothing. He’d let Gilbert bite him as much as he needed to get rid of Ivan. 

Ludwig’s blood coated Gilbert’s lips as he lazily licked it away, head dropping back to expose his thin, white, pulsating neck. Gilbert was absolutely exhausted. The warm body above him was alluring enough to even fall asleep. Gilbert moaned softly, sensitive from the second orgasm as he felt Ludwig’s hot breath against his ear, eyelids drifting in a hazed state of open and closed. Despite not wanting what had just happened, Gilbert felt bliss - felt years’ worth of tension leaving his body, all that stress, _fuck…_ He hadn’t cum like that in over a year, not since Ivan last forced it out of him.

“Just rest Gilbert… I’ll take care of everything,” Ludwig said, sitting back and watching Gilbert go faint against the pillows. He knew he must be exhausted. The party, getting knocked out, waking up confused, no wonder he didn’t recognize him the entire time. He needed sleep and to get well and regain his former strength. 

“You can just go to sleep and I’ll take care of everything… You’re safe now with me. He’s never going to get you again,” Ludwig said, brushing the light hair from Gilbert’s forehead. 

This time he didn’t argue. Let himself be held and held down. He’d figure it out tomorrow after he had more energy. For the moment, he slipped into a troubled but deep sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooh boy. They're back together. What could go wrong?
> 
> Hopefully going back to regular uploads but no promises!


	12. Chapter 12

Ludwig could barely sleep. Even after pinning Gilbert under him and grinding to completion, once he passed out Ludwig still felt wired. He got up and picked up the ruined pieces of the cut-up dress, the wig which had come off when Gilbert tried to escape, shooing the dogs from the room as he went. Looking at the scraps of the green tulle and pleats Ludwig wondered what Gilbert should wear when he woke up again instead of the rags he ruined. Seeing his brother in a dress was something he liked, something they both could enjoy, so Ludwig went to the storage area and grabbed a slinky black slip dress and women's black lingerie to match. 

They were stolen from one of his countless nameless victims. Ludwig had been slowly and subconsciously collecting clothes he wanted to see Gilbert in. Ever since discovering the lingerie in his brother's room all those years ago Ludwig always imagined him wearing those and nothing else. Now Ludwig's fantasies could be the norm. Gilbert had lost his shoes back at the party but Ludwig decided he liked his older brother barefoot after all. 

Heading back to the room, he set the dress and underwear visibly on the foot of the bed. As he watched Gilbert sleep, Ludwig gave into his desire a third time that night and jerked himself off. He hovered over Gilbert's open lips, not touching him, just looking as Ludwig stoked himself by the bedside. When he came, thick white lines landed in Gilbert's fringe and Ludwig panted and stared at the way it clumped together and glued into his hair. He'd bathe Gilbert the next day so he didn't feel bad about it. 

Between the party, fighting his ex-friends, taking care of Gilbert once they were home, and everything else it was already lightening on the eastern horizon and Ludwig figured he might as well give up on sleep and get an early start. He headed down to the kitchen to start making breakfast, already planning a veritable feast to welcome his brother home. 

Hours later, Gilbert awoke to the smell of sizzling eggs, a soft moan pulled from his lips as he tried to open his eyes, his throat forming a lump as he forced himself up, his eyes blinking rapidly at the pain his irises were in - the pain was simply indescribable, gritty and raw and all-consuming. He couldn’t stop the tears running from his eyes as he rubbed his palm to soothe the pain, yet if anything it only made it worse.

Gilbert moaned again with discomfort and stumbled out of the bed, through his blurry eyes he could see a long mirror, ushering over to it as he stumbled to his knees, face pressed against the glass as he forced his twitching, wet eyes open.

“Ow, ow, ow...” 

Gilbert could see his ruby reds, the contact lens in his right eye had folded in on itself, and with shaky fingers did Gilbert slowly extract the contact lens, holding onto his breath as he went to retrieve the other one, with a bit more difficulty given his fingers were wet and slippery; but he managed.

Gilbert sighed, sniffing as he flicked the contact lenses away from him. 

He was never, ever going to wear them again.

Despite the relief, his eyes were still itchy; but it wasn’t as frantic as before, his eyes could breathe. It was then that Gilbert could look at himself fully in the mirror. 

He was naked.

Last night…

Last night…

Gilbert clasped a hand over his mouth as he dry heaved; Ludwig, oh god,  _ Ludwig _ ! Or could it have been just a nightmare? It had to be, but it wouldn’t make any sense why he was in his brother’s bedroom, every inch of the room draped in Nazi paraphernalia, despite his lack of time being in the family home, he could see beneath it that he was indeed in his old home. Nothing had changed. Yet everything was different.

Gilbert scrambled to open the wardrobe, in search of anything to cover up his nudity; yet there were only blazers and uniforms, much too oversized for Gilbert to even consider as comfortable. Gilbert shook off the blazer with irritation, eyes wandering around the room to fall on a silk black dress laid out carefully, intentionally, on the bed.

With caution, Gilbert approached the bed and pinched at the thin, nearly see-through fabric between his fingertips, rubbing his fingers between them as he felt the velvety texture. It felt nice to the touch, but it was women’s clothes! Gilbert’s nose scrunched up as if he had bitten into a sour lemon, why the fuck did Ludwig have women’s clothes? Actually-- it was probably best if some things were left unanswered. 

Wanting to be secure, he felt he had no choice but to put the flimsy thing on, even underwear - seriously? He pulled the thin material above his thighs that suffocated his cock. Gilbert wasn’t fond of how flashy it was; how it exposed all of his scars and imperfections. But still, better than nothing.

Cautiously Gilbert crept to the door, careful to avoid all the creaky spots he remembered on the floor and was surprised to find the bedroom was unlocked.

Gilbert’s eyebrows shot to his hairline, slowly opening the door to peek his head out into the hallway; nothing. Not a soul. Yet… There was an intoxicating smell that drove him awake in the first place, a deep growl from his stomach as he held onto his belly, telling it to “shush” in fear of being caught.

Slowly, Gilbert snuck along the hallway and managed to see the stairs, his eyes lighting up as he began to make his descent, hadn’t realized he was holding his breath by the time he reached the ground floor.

Che, Ludwig was such a sucker; Gilbert grinned as he could see Ludwig’s back inside the kitchen, watching intently as his brother put scrambled eggs on a plate, his mouth watering at the steam it produced, the flavor… Gilbert had to stop grinding his jaw, shaking his head as he unlatched from the wall to step out into the open, high on his tiptoes.

Berlitz and Britta who had been sitting quietly watching Ludwig cook, vigilant for scraps or falling crumbs, noticed Gilbert first and they both stood and bounded over to the new stranger in their home. They crowded him, sniffing his dress, wagging their tails. 

Gilbert’s eyes widened, fear-stricken as his blood turned cold.

He couldn’t remember the details exactly, his mind had protected him by blocking out the worst of it, but his body never forgot. He could feel it; sharp teeth biting into his skin to hold him down into submission, claws plunging deep into his back, scrabbling and scratching his sides… Snarls and laughter… No, no!

Gilbert wailed, a loud shrieking sound as he stumbled back on his heels, hitting one of the dogs on the nose as he tried to put as much distance between him and the beasts as possible.

Ludwig was surprised by the dogs and Gilbert's screams, turning to see him flailing back, eyes wide in terror, swinging at his dogs who mostly just seemed confused. Ludwig threw the spatula down and dashed over yelling at the dogs to get back and scruffing them to pull them off when they didn't comply quickly enough. Once they were back he yelled at them to sit, which they did, though they were still trembling and vibrating with hopeful energy, wanting to properly greet the new person. Ludwig turned back to Gilbert and watched him shiver where he'd fallen, shocked by how frightened he was. Gilbert had never been scared of dogs before. 

"Gilbert, it's okay! It's okay, they won't hurt you," Ludwig knelt and stroked Gilbert's head, fingers catching and breaking through a clot of dried semen tangling his hair. "What happened to you?"

“Don’t touch me, don’t touch me!” Gilbert shouted frantically, his irises thin as needles as panic seized his mind; shaking his arms and legs as he sobbed loudly.

Ludwig heard Gilbert but ignored the order. His brother needed him and he wasn't going to back down. He grabbed him by the shoulders and picked him up, squeezing him into a bear hug, running his hand over his back and just repeating "You're okay, it's okay," over and over. Ludwig wondered what made him react that way and decided to find out. 

"Why are you afraid, brother?"

Gilbert tried but to no avail, his muscles weakening as he succumbed into a ball of withering cries, snot-nosed as the man held onto him, whispering bittersweet nothings in his ears, sniffling loud and body bouncing as he cried with ugly wet tears.

“P-please, please,” Gilbert whispered, shaking his head; he didn’t want to remember, it hurt to remember. “It’s your fault! Your  _ fault _ !” Gilbert was sobbing hysterically now.

Ludwig was at a loss, he didn't know what to do. Gilbert had never broken down like this in front of him before and definitely not over some dogs. He didn't have any defense so he didn't respond to Gilbert's accusations, just kept rubbing, soothing, and repeating to Gilbert that everything was okay. 

Clearly, it wasn't. But holding his brother in his arms had to count for something. Being reunited was a good thing, even if it wasn't exactly how Ludwig had envisioned. 

Gilbert dry heaved, his cries slowly becoming nothing more than hiccups and sniffles as Gilbert pressed the palms of his hands to his eyes. Despite not wanting to be anywhere near Ludwig, his hug was comforting, strong, and secure as Gilbert found himself sinking into Ludwig’s arms, head bowed low.

Gilbert was exhausted, tired of running away.

“You left m-me for dead,” Gilbert whispered, stuttering more out of tiredness than fear. 

“I’m so sorry Gilbert… I didn’t mean to. It’ll never happen again. I’ll never leave you alone again, understand? I’m here now, just depend on me…” Ludwig stroked his hair, ignoring the eggs burning on the stove. Holding Gilbert when he was scared was far more important. 

Gilbert couldn’t believe Ludwig’s lies, not after what he’d done to him, even if he pulled that from the picture… Gilbert pulled at his hair with stress.

“Just- let me go; I need to see Roderich and Eliza!”

“I told you, Gil, they’re gone. They made their choice and I just followed my orders. I gave them both a chance, more than one. They broke the law and they suffered the consequences. But I won’t let that happen to you, never again,” Ludwig hugged Gilbert tighter, suffocating. Behind him, the eggs started to smoke. 

Gilbert sighed with frustration through his nose, wriggling his way out of Ludwig’s arms as he managed to elbow him in the chest, creating some distance between them.

“Your fucking orders can go to hell. It’s not like I can leave the fucking house with those two beasts," Gilbert said, flailing his arms towards the dogs as they wagged their tails at him. 

Gilbert took another effective step back.

“I hope you realize the eggs are burning, you meathead.”

Ludwig, rubbing his chest, turned to see the stove and finally realized how far gone the eggs were. 

“Shoot!” Ludwig darted over and turned off the burner, scraping the smoking charred remains of the eggs onto a plate. They were beyond saving. Ludwig sighed and shoved them aside. At least he already had one portion made and everything else was prepared and looking lovely. The eggs had simply been another option. 

Since his insomnia had driven him to stay awake Ludwig had gone to the market for brötchen and schwarzwälder schinken and emmentaler cheese. He’d set the table, put some daisies in a glass, brewed strong coffee, and set out a spread of the bread, meat, cheese, as well as butter, cherry marmalade, and honey. A fine German breakfast. 

Once the eggs were disposed of Ludwig looked back at Gilbert, wondering about what he’d said. As long as the dogs were there he felt like he couldn’t leave? Ludwig wondered why; what had made Gilbert so shy around the friendly pets. But regardless of why Ludwig filed the information away to use later. He could leash a dog to each door, front and back if need be… 

“Hey, Gil, I hope you’re hungry. I’ve got all your favorites, well, except for the fried eggs,” Ludwig said sheepishly, gesturing to the food spread over the table, plates for two. 

Gilbert remained standing awkwardly feet away from Ludwig as he dished out the plates; if it weren’t for the dogs in the way, Gilbert would have eaten his fill, maybe even Ludwig's too. The food looked and smelled amazing, even from there.

“I’m not going anywhere until those dogs aren't in the room.”

Ludwig frowned, taking in his brother’s trembling form. He was wearing the skintight black dress he’d laid out, not even questioning it. It was gratifying to see, but Ludwig couldn’t help but be concerned with Gilbert’s level of fear. It didn’t make sense. 

“Alright, Gil. I’ll put the dogs out. But you have to talk to me about it, got it?” Ludwig offered him a smile before snapping at the dogs, motioning them over. He corralled them into the sitting room and took a minute to get them comfortable with beds and a water bowl. “Go ahead and start eating without me brother, I’ll be right there once I get them settled,” Ludwig called over his shoulder. 

Gilbert rolled his eyes; surprised at the fact his brother actually complied with the simple request. Then his eyes were drawn to the front door, free from man and dog. 

"Yeah, sure. Thanks for the food!" Gilbert lied, snickering as he began to creep towards the entrance as Ludwig glanced back over to his shoulder, hand grasping onto the doorknob, expecting it to open but disappointingly it was locked. Gilbert frowned. 

However, little did Ludwig know he had learned some tricks over the year of his recovery. Gilbert pinched a stray hairpin that was embedded in his hair, straightening it and inserting it in the keyhole before wriggling it into the back. He applied tension to the lock and using the hooked end of the pin, he began to press each internal tooth individually until it clicked, repeating the process four times until each one was free. A little more… Here and there…  _ Aha _ ! His months of practicing picking a padlock over and over while bedridden, trying to get it open faster each time, were finally paying off. Gilbert would have pat himself on the back for a good job well done, but he had no time to delay. 

Gilbert opened the door and launched himself outside. It was wet and cold, the mud between his toes squelching as he looked left and right. It wouldn't be a smart idea if he ran in the town dressed in such skimpy clothing, he couldn't risk it; so Gilbert did the next best thing and ran around to the back garden to jump the large fence, catching the material on a sharp edge as he plummeted to the ground with a dull thud. 

_ Ow. _

His hands, dress, and knees were coated with thick sludgy mud, cold and clinging from the early spring thaw, but Gilbert marched on, scrambling back to his bare feet with the rush of adrenaline keeping him moving. 

Ludwig came back into the room and immediately noticed Gilbert was nowhere to be seen, not in the kitchen, not the dining room, and he would have heard him going upstairs. Ludwig ran to the front door and found it had been unlocked despite being deadbolted from the inside. He had no idea how Gilbert had gotten it open but he felt dread hit his veins like ice flow. 

“Gilbert, no…” Ludwig already had his boots on and just threw a light jacket on, running out the front door. There was no sign of Gilbert on the front street and as Ludwig circled around back he knew he must have taken the backyard route. He saw no sign of Gilbert until he noticed a tiny scrap of torn and distressed fabric on the top rail of the garden fence. Ludwig plucked it up and knew Gilbert could have gone any direction over the wall, he needed to find him, quickly, before another patrol did. He turned on his heel and called the dogs who came running out to him. He let them sniff the fabric and then prayed all his training would be enough to work in a real-life test. 

“Britta, Berlitz - find!” Ludwig commanded and the two shepherds began sniffing madly, quickly picking up the scent once Ludwig opened the gate for them to run through. The springtime mud squelched beneath his boots, the air still chilly enough to send spirals of steam from his mouth with every pant as he ran. Gilbert couldn’t have gotten far, not with what he was wearing. 

Gilbert ran as fast as he could, feet going numb from the cold, a grim expression on his face as he panted heavily through his nose. He ducked into a small cove of trees, the thin budding branches whipping past his skin, and above the horizon through his racing heart, Gilbert could see a band of men in uniform. There had to be at least ten, the distant shrill of howls sent shivers down his spine as he knelt near some evergreen bushes, still enough foliage to provide decent cover.

What the fuck was he going to do?

Gilbert tried to think what brave Elizaveta would do in his situation, but all he could think of was her inevitable death. Roderich too. If it wasn't for him, they would both still be alive. 

Another fucking mistake… That’s all he could do. 

God. Would he ever learn? He thought of trying to find Toris and Feliks… Even Ivan was an option, he longed for familiarity. 

He could cope with being Ivan’s cocksleeve for the rest of his life, especially if it meant freedom for his friends, but for his brother to be infatuated within an incestuous relationship? Gilbert already knew which he'd prefer. 

Yet Ludwig was the only man he had left. The only one helping him. The only support he had left in a Nazi-controlled country. Gilbert was torn, suffocated by the life-changing decision he had to make. 

Before he had a chance to process his position any longer, two trained German shepherds rounded the corner and bolted straight at him, which meant Ludwig was not far behind. 

He couldn't be sure if they were Ludwig’s, as all the German shepherds looked alike to him, but they had come from that direction. As they came upon him he was quickly surrounded, screaming high with surprise and fright as they came crashing through the underbrush. He fell on his back, swallowed in a writhing pit of dog fur as they began pawing and licking him, and Gilbert placed the sole of his foot to one of the dog’s underbelly to kick it off of him, launching the beast a few feet away from him before he was back up on his feet again and scrambling away. He wasn't watching where he was going as he ran out of the urban thicket, managing to get back out to the road until he turned and impacted with a broad tree, jarring his bones. 

Gilbert was winded, falling back on his ass as he moaned, muddy fingers covered with leaves and mud grabbing his throbbing nose. Gilbert looked up and his heart sank, a lump forming in his throat as his eyes widened, fear seizing him as he resisted the urge to empty his bowels right there and then. 

For it wasn't a tree he ran into, but a soldier. 

Ludwig finally managed to catch up by running along the road and snagged Gilbert by his wrist, yanking him up to his feet with a frown on his face as he whispered angrily against the shell of his ear. 

“Stay quiet, got it?” Ludwig hissed, jostling his brother briefly before standing in front of him, shielding him. 

“You there, what’s going on?'' The soldier that Gilbert had run into asked with his hands folded behind his back. He looked at Ludwig cautiously, then placed a second glance over the mud-covered woman, and couldn't see much of her for the filth was layered on thick as if she had been rolling in it.

“Is she… What’s wrong with her?”

“I’m Officer Beilschmidt. My wife, she’s not well, ill with the hysterics. I was just taking her home.” The dogs circled them and whined but Ludwig didn’t stop them, hoping they were a distraction from them noticing Gilbert was really a man in a dress. He stood in front of him, shielding him from their view. 

“Ah, Beilschmidt. The pleasure is all mine. I hope you take no offense, but your wife.. she looks a little too… How old is she?” The soldier seemed to catch himself, shaking his head. “Well, that's not my business. A simple observation. As a fellow officer, you should know it’s dangerous running around the streets unsupervised these days.” 

“Of course, you know how women can be…” 

They nodded respectfully and finally turned to leave, gesturing for the young soldiers to follow onwards. 

Ludwig finally relaxed his tight grip but didn’t let go. He glared at Gilbert from the corner of his eye, speaking lowly under his breath. 

“That was stupid of you, Gil…” 

Gilbert hadn't looked up since the impact, snarling under his breath with irritation as he tried to wrench his arm free, given the patrol was beyond the corner now as he hissed, expression exasperated. 

"Me? The stupid one? If anything, I was doing us both a favor." 

"Do you want to get taken away again?"

"If it means being nowhere near you, so be it," Gilbert said, unable to look at Ludwig directly in his eyes. 

Ludwig was shocked, hurt. It made no sense whatsoever. 

"I don't believe you… All those scars… You'd rather be tortured than be with me? Your only family?" Ludwig said woodenly.

"At least there it made sense! This, us,  _ you!  _ It doesn't make sense anymore! I don't want to be here with you, what happened wasn't supposed to happen! Roderich… Eliza… They're dead because of  _ you!"  _ Gilbert hollered, lips curling into a snarl as he glared with a deep hatred towards Ludwig. 

Ludwig felt the hurt in him slide and easily turn into anger. Sick, clotting possessive anger. He fixed Gilbert with a cold stare and simply replied to his outburst with a simple "No". He gripped Gilbert's wrist even harder wrenching him along and not letting go, marching them back to the house with the dogs barking around next to them as they went. His brother could barely keep up, coated in mud and tripping from his rapid pace but Ludwig didn’t slow down. If Gilbert really missed being tortured that much, Ludwig would accommodate him.

Gilbert felt the ground beneath his feet right itself as Ludwig jerked him along, his arm aching with the consistent pulling. He felt disoriented as he could hear the dogs barking with excitement, circling around their feet as Ludwig marched on back to the house, only for Gilbert to dig his heels into the mud, a fruitless effort. He tried scratching and pulling at Ludwig’s arm in any possible way to slow him down but he was immovable. The dogs were also too close for comfort. 

Ludwig snarled in frustration and turned back around to scoop Gilbert up by his middle and fling him over his back, carrying him like a sack. 

"Don't cause a scene, Gil," Ludwig panted, almost back to their house now.

Gilbert did the complete opposite, for now, his legs thrashed widely, his hands turned into fists as he continuously punched at his back; much like how a baby would when having a tantrum. Gilbert couldn't care less how it made him feel, Ludwig never gave a damn about him! 

Ludwig almost got kicked in the nose, narrowly dodging it. He was glad Gilbert hadn't gotten far, he was causing such a ruckus that the neighbors might notice… Ludwig glanced around before heading in through the back door, herding the dogs in front of him. Once the door was safely shut he set Gilbert down in the kitchen and shouted at him.

"Don't you ever do that to me again! Running away like that, causing a scene like that, almost getting yourself caught again! Next time you run away from me I'm going to tell the dogs to bite you and drag you back, got it?"

Gilbert growled as he was set down, stepping back a few feet away so there was some distance between them, mud dragging along the kitchen floor as he gritted his teeth. 

“Oh yeah!? Well next time, I’ll just try harder!” Gilbert raised his voice higher, brushing some leaves off his shoulder to turn around sharply.

“I’ll be having a bath if you need me,” Gilbert said, walking away further into the house. Out the corner of his eye, as he came upon the stairs, he couldn’t help it but simply reach over and touch a ceramic vase in passing, not bothering to even look behind himself to see the mess. He could hear it shatter spectacularly, and that was all that mattered as he walked up the stairs.

“Oopsie,” Gilbert snickered sarcastically. 

“Dammit, Gilbert! That was our grandfather’s!” Ludwig shooed the dogs away from the broken glass and glared up at his brother as he stomped up the stairs. Even if he loved him in more ways than one, they were still brothers and Gilbert knew best how to annoy him. Ludwig sighed, getting on with cleaning up. Once he was done Ludwig decided as a reward for himself and punishment for Gilbert he would stop in on him, see how he was doing in his bath…

Gilbert all but rolled his eyes with amusement, quick on his heels as he made it to the bathroom. 

A chance of privacy. 

Gilbert glanced left and right, closing the door to turn the lock. Unfortunately, he didn’t have anything to hold down the door to keep prying eyes away from the keyhole. He let out a deep sigh as he dragged his feet to put in the plug and fill the bath with warm water, discarding the skimpy dress on the floor and shivered at how cold it was. 

When bathing, Gilbert did everything he could to avoid looking at himself; he couldn’t stand it, the reminders that haunted him, Ivan’s lips whispering against the shell of his ear… Gilbert shuddered, shaking his head as he used some shampoo to fill the bath with bubbles, a coconut scent. It was nice and relaxing. Then, without much thought, Gilbert stepped his toe into the water, watching fascinated as the dirt between his toes began to disintegrate.

It was perhaps best to take a shower, then a bath; but Gilbert couldn’t honestly be bothered, he could always drain the water and fill it up again. 

Ludwig slid the key into the locked bathroom door right as Gilbert was about to step into the bath. He opened the door quietly and smiled in appreciation as he watched Gilbert bend over and touch the water, unintentionally showing off his ass. 

“That vase was antique, you know…” Ludwig said lowly, smiling wider when he saw how Gilbert startled as he realized he was there. 

Gilbert could have very well almost jumped six feet in the air, closing his legs as he protected his most vulnerable parts. He hadn't even heard Ludwig come in and honestly he hadn’t expected it either. It hadn't even been five minutes! 

"What the actual fuck, Ludwig?! Get out!" Gilbert shouted with heated cheeks, trying to sound stern and intimidating as he cupped his dick to hide it from view.

“No, I’m going to stay. Gotta make sure you clean up properly. Well? What are you waiting for? Get in the tub, I’ll scrub your back,” Ludwig said, already rolling up his sleeves. 

Gilbert tightened his jaw, nostrils flaring as he felt cornered and trapped. He had nowhere to go and Ludwig was  _ enjoying it.  _

“Look Gil, don’t make this harder than it needs to be. You’ve already caused enough trouble for one morning,” Ludwig said, stepping closer, arms spread wide in case Gilbert tried to bolt again. 

Gilbert felt the back of his legs hit the edge of the tub and gasped. He hadn't realized he was holding his breath as the gap between them grew smaller and smaller. Panicked and frightened, Gilbert eyed Ludwig’s parted legs and used the opportunity to swing his leg upwards and his shin met Ludwig’s balls, swiftly ducking under his arms with an agility born from fear. 

Ludwig saw the kick and tried to draw his hips in to avoid the blow but didn’t quite manage in time. The pain from his balls getting crushed was nauseating, and he hissed and whimpered as Gilbert ducked past him and he toppled over. One hand cupping his balls, the other he flung out and caught Gilbert by the foot, tripping him up so he fell and they were both splayed on the floor. 

Gilbert gasped as he crashed to the tiles, pain exploding within his jaw and chest as he found himself still trying to catch his breath as his ears rang loud as his legs weakly flailed, not exactly sure where he was kicking, but at least it was something even as Ludwig kept a vicious hold on his ankle. 

Ludwig growled, still in pain, but more determined to control his brother and he crawled closer with his blue eyes blazing. “Gilbert, you asshole…” Using considerable strength he yanked Gilbert along the tile, dragging him closer until he could get on top of him, press a knee against his neck to restrain him until his balls recovered. 

Gilbert moaned as he was pulled along the floor, falling limp as Ludwig’s knee crushed against his neck and he wheezed. 

"Go on, do it! Do it, you fucked up piece of shit!" Gilbert wasn't too sure what he was chanting for Ludwig to do, was it to kill him? Gilbert could only hope as he felt Ludwig’s mass and strength poised deadly above him. 

Since when had he become so strong? 

“Gilbert calm down! I’m not going to kill you, even if I want to right now, damn it!” Ludwig was still recovering but knew he could just pin him down forever. He grabbed Gilbert by the shoulders and pulled him up, lifting him easily and setting him into the tub directly. “Just sit still and let me clean you!” 

Exhausted and hurt, Gilbert allowed Ludwig to lower him into the bath without fighting back, if anything it was a bid to recoup and gain back the energy he’d lost. He hated everything about this. He hated Ludwig.

"I don't want you touching me." A simple fact. How many innocent people had his little brother killed by his hands alone, with the pull of a trigger, without even thinking of the consequences? 

Gilbert shuddered, couldn't help but feel guilty for playing a huge part in Ludwig’s monstrous behavior. He’d been the cause of Ludwig’s descent into the Nazi madness.

He should have tried harder… It was his fault, like usual.

Gilbert shuffled forward so he sat close to the taps, legs huddled up as the water around him became cloudy with mud, murky with silt. Hiding his disgusting, ugly scars. 

Ludwig gave a huge sigh when he saw Gilbert finally relent. He took his shirt off which had gotten wet and muddy in the scuffle and picked up a washcloth and bar of soap, scooting closer on his knees. He didn't want to give Gilbert another free shot. Once by the tub he worked the washcloth up into a lather and began washing everywhere he could reach on Gilbert.

Gilbert's nostrils flared as he heaved a sigh much too soon after Ludwig, didn't find himself retaliating as he heard the cloth dip in the water, the sounds of water loud to his ears as Ludwig began to scrub his back, face, underarms. He couldn't help but feel meek under Ludwig’s intense gaze, cautiously glancing at him through the corners of his eyes.

Ludwig looked tired, exhausted even, yet his posture remained strong and diligent - wait, what?! Why was he feeling sympathy for this man? This monster?

It was a simple answer. 

For they were brothers and Gilbert forever and always had a soft spot for Ludwig, even now. Yet somewhere down the line, Gilbert made a huge mistake. A mistake he had unknowingly  _ encouraged _ . 

Or… 

Did he? 

"Turn around Gil, let me wash your front, and then we can try and have breakfast again."

Gilbert grit his teeth and could feel his muscles pinch with tension. 

"Nein. I can do it myself." 

Ludwig stared at his brother's tense curled-up form and decided that rather than fight him he'd leave him be for once. There would be plenty of time to bathe together later, especially since the current bathwater had turned a dingy grey-brown. He dropped the washcloth into the water and stood, leaning over to pick up the muddy and sodden clothes, Gilbert's black dress, Ludwig's white shirt. 

"Fine, but don't try sneaking out again while I'm gone. Remember what I said about the dogs," Ludwig reminded him, noticing how effective the dogs had been earlier at scaring Gilbert. He didn't mind using that fear if it helped keep Gilbert safe and secure at home.

Gilbert snarled at the threat, he truly wanted to test that theory, but the brother he was looking at was not his usual brother. A changed man. Changed from war and stupid, big mistakes. Gilbert didn't want to test that theory as he pinched his nails between his teeth. He rolled his eyes. 

No, no. It couldn't be possible. Why even pass the thought of ever intentionally leading Ludwig on? For that made Gilbert all the more guilty, he deserved what happened to him… Gilbert shook his head, he didn't want to think about Ivan; as Ludwig disappeared, Gilbert stood up and grabbed a bath towel, it was large enough to cover the entire length of his shoulders to his feet which he eagerly wrapped himself up in, the bathmat beneath his feet catching any excess water. He had enough common sense to know Ludwig was true to his words, yet he wasn't sneaking around this time, simply getting out of the bath. 

Ludwig commanded the dogs to sit and stay outside the bathroom and they both laid down side by side to watch Gilbert's feet under the door. Meanwhile, Ludwig went downstairs and quickly put the clothes in the hamper, and got redressed. He had the morning off but had to report in the afternoon and he hoped to spend more time with Gil before that. He made up a quick breakfast sandwich from the spread still sitting out and filled a plate with food, carrying it up to Gilbert's bedroom. He grabbed some clean clothes while there, a long cream-colored gown, satin underwear that was a matching color.

He went back to the bathroom and opened the door without knocking. 

Gilbert turned on his heel as the door opened, his arms over his small chest as the towel kept snug around him. 

"Took you long enough, what am I supposed to wear?" 

Once Ludwig slid the plate of food onto the bathroom sink counter he held up the gown and panties wordlessly.

Gilbert's jaw could have dropped to the floor as his eyes bulged at what Ludwig was showing off. 

"You've got to be fucking kidding me! Again with the dresses? Where the fuck did you- no, no, don't answer that. That was a rhetorical question!" Gilbert shuddered, the more he thought about it, the less he felt compelled to wear the garments. Despite being washed, Gilbert could see the innocent blood stained on its mournful fabric. 

"I swear to god Ludwig if you don't buy me some decent clothes I will tear this shit hole inside out. It's taking a lot of control to not do that even now!" 

Ludwig frowned. “But… I picked these out for you… I saw you had women’s clothes in your room before...” 

Gilbert could have pulled his eyes out at the stress Ludwig was putting on him, wait - how the fuck did Ludwig even know about that? That must mean… 

"What the fuck, you've been going through my personal shit?!" 

“Yes. But I don’t care, Gilbert. You used to wear women’s clothes and I have wanted to see you in them for years. You’re wearing them now. Nothing else will fit you any way,” Ludwig said, lowering his voice. He stepped forward and ripped the towel away. He couldn’t help glancing down and frowning seeing the state of Gilbert’s shriveled, scarred parts. He wished he could have seen him whole. They should have been each other’s firsts, rather than random soldiers and prisoners of the Nazi party. 

He held the panties and gown out. “It’s either this or nothing, brother.” 

With the towel now out of reach, Gilbert grabbed the garments out of Ludwig's fingers and hastily slipped them on; he would rather wear a skimpy gown than wander around naked. Anything to hide his hideous body. 

Ludwig watched as his brother snatched the clothing and watched intently as he slipped them on. He licked his lips, mouth dry, impatient to touch his satin-clad skin. Ludwig stalked closer.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ludwig move, but it still shocked him when he felt his brother’s hands trailing along his jutting hip bone as he breathed hotly in his ear. Gilbert shrieked, causing the dogs waiting outside to jump and bark, and between their sudden cacophony of noise and Ludwig’s unwanted touch, something burst forth inside him that he’d been trying to hold back the entire time. In an instant Gilbert was seized with a fresh spike of fear, his body falling into a ball as he whispered panicked, instinctual pleas. 

"Please stop, please… Please… I’ll be good, I’m sorry, ‘m sorry…”

Ludwig knew Gilbert was jumpy, but even he was surprised at how dramatic his reaction was. Again, the dogs barking had set him off and Ludwig watched helplessly as Gilbert crumpled to the ground in front of him, curled up and shivering and begging nonsense. Ludwig knelt down with him, tried to pull him up and uncurl him, kept saying his name but clearly, it wasn’t getting through. He was trapped in some bad memory, he could tell. He’d seen it in some of his own soldiers even. 

Ludwig’s touch burned. 

The unwanted memories came flooding back; he remembered being pinned against the dirty floor, blood oozing from puncture wounds and bite marks along his arms as a huge dog growled and mounted him, the claws digging carelessly in his back as its... Its... Gilbert retched, dry heaving as he trembled at the horrific memory.

There was no one present but two men. Two men Gilbert would remember for the rest of his life. If Ivan was the devil himself, those two Nazi soldiers were undoubtedly two sadistic demons set on torturing him and making his life a living hell. 

It was something that was completely out of his hands, yet Gilbert couldn't help but feel he deserved it. 

Ludwig shouted at Gilbert but it only made him curl in tighter, eyes had gone glassy, his breathing shallow and rapid. Outside in the hallway, the dogs continued to bark.

Smoke was blown in his face as the dog jumped his hips, a disgusting sound as its hot, wet breath panted feverishly in his ear. If Gilbert moved the beast growled and bit at him, grappling animalistically to hold him in place and the soldiers laughed. Romulus, the wild one, stepped on his forearm to keep him from moving, leaning on one of the bites there. He sneered, watching on and holding the leash of the military dog.

“This is your fault for hurting my dick. Why couldn’t you just be a good little slut for us? Huh?” Romulus asked condescendingly, grinding his boot against his arm.

That’s right… He’d bit him. It was his fault that happened. It was his fault this was happening now.

He was confused, could feel Ludwig’s hands, hear him talking but couldn’t understand. He felt the Romulus from his past more strongly, the dogs barking… 

No, no, no, he didn't  _ want  _ to remember! Gilbert couldn't stop hyperventilating, a high whine escaping past his lips as he scratched at his ear to get rid of the phantom sensation of Romulus’ taunts. It was then he felt a warm gush of piss flood between his thighs and dribble onto the floor. The sensation was momentarily comforting. Sometimes he was left alone if he pissed himself. Made himself too disgusting to fuck temporarily.

It hadn’t worked with the dogs though.

Ludwig jumped back in shocked revulsion as he watched a yellow pool of piss spread out from beneath his brother still curled up and rocking and crying on the floor. He shook his head and darted over to the door, opening it to yell at the dogs to be quiet and lie down. They looked at him expectantly and he had to repeat himself a couple of times before they finally settled. 

Finally, Ludwig shut the door, the house silent now except for Gilbert’s miserable sniffles behind him. Ludwig felt a huge sigh work its way through him. He didn’t want to deal with Gilbert in this state, it was heart-wrenching to witness. Disgusting and pathetic. And yet he loved him all the more fiercely and protectively. The one who hurt him would pay… 

After a moment for him to collect himself, Ludwig announced "I have to go to work or we’re both in danger. I brought you some food and you have access to water. Get clean. And if you try to escape again the dogs are here in the hall.” 

Gilbert's mind felt trapped in time as he felt a man grab his arm, locking him inside a white, cold room that had him banging frantically on the door as his lips moved but he couldn't hear anything that was being said. 

It wasn't until over an hour later that Gilbert calmed down all on his own, only the sounds of sniffling coming through the door. What brought him back was focusing on two silly little toothbrushes on the sink, a blue and green one. A grim smile as Gilbert reached out for the blue one, it used to be his own when he lived here. 

Ludwig still kept it. 

Ludwig… 

Gilbert felt numb, exhausted with emotions he didn't have time to think about. 

Gilbert clenched his teeth, feeling sour as he tried to snap the plastic in half but couldn't succeed. Instead, he threw it to the floor and cursed it to the heavens. Gilbert inhaled, only to gag at the smell of his own piss - right. Hastily Gilbert peeled off the wet gown and panties, took the used towel to mop up and contain the mess before turning on the hot water in the shower to step into the bathtub. His second wash in one day. 

Gilbert shuddered, enjoying the warmth and steam coming from the showerhead as it warmed his cold skin. He reached for the soap, annoyed as it slipped between his thin and nimble fingers. 

Without Ludwig hovering over, Gilbert found himself thinking about where he had gone wrong, what he had done wrong. It was an easy answer, but Gilbert couldn't fathom why his brother would go to such extreme lengths of denial when he made it clear over and over that his feelings weren’t reciprocated. 

Another deep shiver as he felt old phantom hands trail down his spine, pale lips against his ear as he felt something hot and hard and unyielding against the crack of his ass. Ivan.

"Oh, Gilbert. These feelings Ludwig has for you are your fault, you have to live up to them. Stop running away like a coward and open your legs for him. It's your design."

Gilbert trembled, his knees feeling weak as he felt a distant, but familiar coil within his stomach as he felt his cock twitch with life. He wasn’t there, he knew he was imagining it, but it felt  _ so real _ … Ivan was always with him, even when he was alone. 

"Be a good boy now, it isn't good for your body or health to resist." 

It was as if a switch for restraint had been turned off. Gilbert moaned as he wrapped a meager hand around his cock, his other hand brought to his nipples as he squeezed and teased the soft bud, rolling it between the pads of his fingers as he pulled it taut. It stung, but that’s what Ivan liked.

"That's it, good boy." 

Gilbert couldn't help but feel encouraged by Ivan’s purring words, his fingers swirling across the red, wet tip of his cock and back down again, to pump the length with long movements, pulling down the foreskin to tease at the sensitive area. 

"I-Ivan.." Gilbert whimpered, leaving his red nipples alone to suck at the digits, bringing his fingers to his ass as he began to kneel down in the tub for a better position, his legs shook with anticipation as he inserted the first finger, soon to be joined by a second and third as he worked with both of his hands. 

It wasn't enough, Gilbert knew that, even with three fingers inside of him, yet he pushed, somehow managing a fourth as the shower rained on his back, droplets hanging from his hair as he breathed heavily through his nose trying to catch his breath, bit at his lip. His left hand never stopped pumping.

With a strangled cry Gilbert finally came, his jaw tense as his cum spurted out into the water to trail off into the drain to get rid of his dirty evidence. Gilbert removed his fingers, exhausted and sensitive to the touch. The water was still running, the only thing that mattered was that it was warm and creating lots of steam. It was then that his eyes began to close, a soft sigh falling past his lips as he felt phantom hands brush back his bangs in a comforting manner, a soft press against his lips.

"Have a nice sleep, Gilbert…” 

\----

Ludwig wound up spending the rest of the morning escape-proofing the house and he wasn’t able to leave for work until that afternoon. All the windows and doors had been double-locked, keys hidden, and Britta and Berlitz tethered to guarding each door. He already called in to let his unit know but as a higher ranked officer, he had the luxury of extra time. As long as he managed his missions within the approved timeline, they didn’t care much if he missed a morning here and there. Once he entered the barracks, however, Feliciano pounced with excitement at seeing Ludwig, given it had only been a day since his absence. 

"Ludwig! C'mere!" The Italian chirped, having hooked the arm of a small Asian man who looked very uncomfortable. 

"I wanted to introduce you to him, but before that, what  _ was  _ that last night? That plan-- wow! You’re such a genius, Ludwig!"

The Asian man had an eyebrow high above his thin black hair, picking up on the suspicion but not quite understanding what Feliciano was specifically talking about; it was only something the Italian and German knew. The blond-haired man looked flustered for the briefest of seconds, before swatting Feliciano on the back of the head with a snarl. A warning. 

"Owie!" Feliciano sniffed, bringing his hands up to rub at the sore area. 

Ludwig cleared his throat and tucked his hands back behind him, folding them together to appear more formal and put together despite Feliciano’s antics. "Well now, who is this?"

"Right, right! This is Kiku Honda, he's alllll the way from Japan! How cool is that? He's here to translate but often has a lot of free time on his hands, he looked lonely, so we talked - and now we're friends!" Feliciano spoke feverishly, almost out of breath by the time he finished. 

Kiku suppressed the desire to roll his eyes, he wouldn't exactly call them friends. They only met a few hours ago and the majority of the conversation was about the Italian’s lifestyle back at home and the rest had been about this mysterious man named Ludwig. 

Ludwig looked down at Kiku and appraised him, noticing how he seemed a bit more serious than Feliciano. He could appreciate that. 

"Ludwig Beilschmidt." 

Kiku snapped his legs together and bowed respectfully below the waist, his chocolate hues briefly coming into focus as he noticed Ludwig’s outstretched hand. He stood straight, his hand reaching to grasp at his large hands. 

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Beilschmidt," Kiku greeted formally, which caused Feliciano to roll his eyes and pat the small man's back. A convenient height to lean on, which Kiku did not appreciate as he stepped back. 

"At least you both have something in common! You’re both so  _ stiff _ ! Can't we enjoy ourselves a little? We've just made a new friend alllll the way from Japan!" It was then that Feliciano gasped with excitement and switched arms so he was leaning on Ludwig instead who seemed rather annoyed but put up with his clingy attitude as he squealed. Kiku couldn’t contain his cringe. 

"Oh my gosh! Ludwig, I had the best idea! Let's have Kiku over at your place and have a dinner party in his honor! Also to celebrate your genius plan working! We should tell Kiku about it, don’t you think?" 

Ludwig was flustered and taken aback. Gilbert was there, Feliciano was going on about some hare-brained notion, and Kiku looked just as perturbed by the sudden invitation and plan being formed right in front of him. 

“W-wait, Feliciano, I can’t - my house isn’t ready for guests, I’m not prepared and nothing’s cooked-”

"Oh, don’t you worry and leave all of that to me! Just tidy up a bit and I’ll take care of the rest. Your place at half 5. Okay?!" 

Ludwig tried to object but Feliciano was already heading off, dragging a hapless Kiku after him. 

"Anyway! See you later this evening! Come on, Kiku. We have lots more to show you!" Feliciano said, grinning from ear to ear as he once again hooked Kiku from the crook of his elbow, his mouth spewing away jumping from different topics that even Ludwig couldn't keep up with as he was left behind. He felt bad for the poor overwhelmed translator.

And just as fast as they’d come, they were gone again. Ludwig sighed and began thinking of how to contain his brother while entertaining an impromptu dinner party. He could already feel a headache forming and decided he needed to stop by the armory and get some more handcuffs and other restraints. 

It was going to take a lot to keep his brother down. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today’s word of the day is limerence! The state of being obsessively infatuated with someone, usually accompanied by delusions of or a desire for an intense romantic relationship with that person. 
> 
> Does this remind you of anyone? XD


End file.
